All Things Fade
by Laurence
Summary: A (short) book length completed story written in 1998 set in the midst of Buffy's Season Two.
1. Prologue

A series of art thefts and a new group of vampires in town means trouble for the Scooby Gang. When Willow gets caught in the middle, it means disaster. Can anybody save our favorite redhead?  
  
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This Buffy the Vampire Slayer story takes place after the episode School Hard in Season 2, and is the first fanfic I wrote. It is rated PG-13 for some violence, implied violence and kissing. It was written in the fall of 1998 and was a finalist in the Willfic Awards that year.  
  
I would like to say thank you to all of the people who took the time to respond as I wrote this piece, your kind words mean a lot to me.  
  
I'd also like to take the time to give a special *THANK YOU* to Avarice, Blackheart, KrazyKat, Melinda S. Dawney and VaBuffyFan for their wonderful editing help.  
  
Laurence  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They were created by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was written for personal entertainment only and I am not profiting from it. Characters and other items (for example-Severian, Stephen Allinson, Kveltain and Claudia) within the following story that are not the creation of Joss Whedon or Mutant Enemy are my own and I claim full rights on them.  
  
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Prologue  
  
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Severian strolled through the warm Texas night. A faint hint of a breeze stirred the trees lining the campus sidewalks. In the dim, hidden recesses of the courtyard, there was little chance for such a weak wind to bring any real relief. A smattering of people were passing through the area, singly or in pairs. With few classes held in the evening, the university was slowly shutting down for the night.   
  
A little more than six feet tall, he had short black hair and dark friendly eyes. His skin was touched with a light olive complexion and the hint of a smile seemed to hover constantly at his lips. He wore a fashionable pair of khaki slacks and a dark shirt. Not trendy, but stylish in a tastefully expensive manner.   
  
Tossing a candy bar wrapper into a trash container, Severian ducked under a low mesquite tree branch and looked for a place to sit down. He spotted a bench and ambled towards it. A cloud of gnats blocked his path and Severian waved a well-manicured hand at them as he twisted to one side and hurried past.   
  
Reaching the bench, Severian lightly brushed the dirt and leaves from one end. Rubbing his hands together to clean them off, he sat down and leaned back. He put his hands on the bench behind him, kicked his feet out onto the sidewalk in front of him and then stretched painfully. Relaxing, he checked his watch and grimaced at the noise above him. Twisting his head around, he scowled at the clouds of ugly black birds-grackles, they were called-infesting the trees. Swarming in at sunset to roost in the trees, they screeched and cawed at each other incessantly. The noise was slowly driving him crazy.   
A pair of university workmen was lazily cleaning the debris from an earlier sidewalk repair. Glancing at them, he checked his watch again. Time to go. He got up and moved across the courtyard toward the building in front of him.  
  
It was an ugly, square thing with bland concrete pillars holding up an overhang that ran all the way around. The University of Texas had undergone a great deal of construction in the 1970's. Buildings such as this, the Harry Ransom Center, were scattered among the more traditional, older buildings across campus.  
  
Yet another reason to hate the seventies, he thought. The newer buildings were ugly. Opening the glass doors brought a rush of cool air. Severian sighed as he stepped inside.  
  
"I bet you needed that." A police officer sitting at a desk leaned back and smiled at him. His white uniform shirt bore the emblems of the university police department.  
  
Severian nodded and said, "I sure did. Does it ever get cool around here?"  
  
"Cool? No. Cold, yes. In February or March we'll have an ice storm for a couple of days, then we jump right back into too damn hot." He chuckled at his own joke. He stopped, then added, "Ah, we're closing in twenty minutes."  
  
"Well, I was supposed to meet somebody outside. I thought maybe I'd walk about in here real quick and see if they came in to get out of that." He waved his hand back towards the outside.  
  
The officer, 'Kieschner' his badge read, nodded and waved him forward. Smiling thanks, Severian stepped through the next set of doors and into an enormous room.  
  
He stood on a tiny balcony. Stairs led down to a large expanse of carpet that stretched from one side of the building to the other. Large rectangles mounted on stands broke up the space into a series of "rooms". Art of all types hung from the rectangles, and various modern sculptures were scattered about according to some plan that escaped Severian's understanding or concern.  
  
Ugly modern crap, he thought while descending the staircase.  
  
Humming to himself, Severian walked deliberately forward, through the "rooms" of art.  
  
Forward one, then left at the big bible, he thought to himself. He paused at a large display case. It appeared to not only be sealed, but armored as well. He looked closer.  
  
"A Gutenberg Bible," he said aloud. "Cool." The plaque mentioned that only five Gutenbergs, the first mechanically printed Bibles, remained in the world. Looking around he muttered, "They put it in here with this trash? What a bunch of morons."  
  
Turning, he moved on. Forward two, left, and forward one more brought him to an open space. An enormous staircase rose in front of him. It turned ninety degrees halfway up and continued to the second floor, far above. Another police officer was there, in the corner under the overhanging staircase. She was leaning against the wall, writing on a clipboard.  
  
Severian glanced at her as he started up the staircase. He put his hands together and cracked his fingers as he crossed the landing half way up.  
  
A pretty young student passed him on her way down. She smiled at him and he paused to look back at her. She glanced up and gave an embarrassed smile when she saw him looking down at her. Shyly she turned away and hurried on down the stairs, adjusting her backpack as she went.  
  
Severian stood watching her cross the floor below and disappear from sight. "Dammit," he said aloud. Sighing, he turned and moved up the final steps to the second floor of the gallery.  
  
Passing through a long hall filled with Greek and Roman artifacts, he soon reached another maze of walls holding paintings.  
  
Forward one room, he thought, now right, forward two and on the left.  
  
A pair of tiny paintings hung on the wall. They portrayed a man and a woman, dressed in 1600s era clothing. Both were about the size of a paperback book, but their dark wooden frames at least doubled their size.  
  
"Portrait of a Man...Portrait of a Woman," Severian read aloud. "How very original."  
  
Looking about to see that nobody was near, he leaned his head forward against the wall and looked behind the paintings. Other than the frame hooks, only a simple alarm wire held them in place.  
  
Severian stepped back, shrugged, and jerked them both off the wall.  
  
Alarms began ringing madly, the noise echoing through the maze of walls. Tucking both frames under his right arm, Severian ran back the way he had come, back to the staircase.  
  
As he breezed through the line of statues, he headed not toward the stairs, but instead the balcony ledge next to them.  
  
He leapt over the rail like a hurdles jumper, but as he passed the rail he dropped his left arm back behind him. His arm slapped into the rail, hard, but his hand gripped it tight.  
  
He jerked to stop in midair, let go...and dropped twenty-five feet straight down.  
  
The female cop below was just starting up the staircase when Severian landed behind her. She turned in a daze, reaching for her pistol.  
  
"Wha..." she gasped.  
  
Severian punched her in the face with his left fist and she flew back ten feet and thudded hard into a large portrait. She collapsed unconscious, and the painting slipped from its hooks and fell over on her. Its tripwire broke and another set of alarms went off.  
  
Darting back through the lower gallery, he turned hard at the Gutenberg display. The desk guard in the foyer was frantically locking the doors. Behind him a heavy grilled gate was shutting over the outside doors.  
  
Severian snarled and raced toward the doors.  
  
Outside, the two workmen dropped their pretense of cleaning the sidewalk debris and grabbed a pair of ladders. Running to the entrance, they hurriedly jammed the ladders in front of the shutting gate. The gate shuddered to a stop and its motors began to whine.  
  
Severian flew up the stairs and lowered his shoulder. He ducked his head and slammed full speed into the glass doors. The officer fell backwards in a panic as the doors burst in a huge shower of flying glass.  
  
Stumbling through the debris, Severian slammed into the outer set of doors. He jerked the doors open and stepped through, over the ladders. Bits of glass tinkled as they fell to the ground as he shook himself off.  
  
The two maintenance men released the ladders and jumped back. They sprung up under the pressure of the gate and clattered to the ground. Its path free, the gate slammed shut and the locks clicked into place.  
  
The three ran through the now dark courtyard and down a flight of stairs to the street below. A battered white van waited, its engine running. Severian barreled into the passenger seat while the other two opened the rear door and dove in. They crawled over the bodies of the real workmen on the floor.  
  
"Now!" Severian shouted to the waiting driver. The van lurched into gear and roared away.  
  
As the van darted through traffic, Severian turned to face the other three. "The plan is still on. We dump the van and take the cars. Stick to the planned routes. You need to be in California by no later than Wednesday."  
  
The others nodded silently.  
  
"Remember, no screwing around, just get out there as soon as you safely can." He looked down at the dead men on the floor of the van. "When was it that I told you to kill them?" he said to the driver. Casting a fearful glance over, the driver gripped the steering wheel tightly and said nothing. Severian glared at him for a long moment. "The next time you do anything without my permission I will become very upset. Do you understand?"  
  
The driver nodded frantically.   
  
Severian turned in his seat to face the front. He flipped the radio on and began tapping his fingers on the armrest to the beat of the music. The others in the van sat quietly, wary of catching his attention.  
  
After winding through the city streets for ten minutes the van finally pulled into a secluded Park-n-Pay lot. The group got out of the van and scattered to different cars. Severian took the paintings from the van and placed them in the trunk of a silver Taurus, covering them with a blanket.  
  
Minutes later, Severian was driving west, out of Austin and into the Texas Hillcountry. As the city lights disappeared in the rearview mirror, he pulled a cellphone from the glove compartment and dialed.  
  
"This is Sev...Went fine, got them both...there was no trouble at all...of course I didn't just rip them off the wall. How dumb do you think I am...Okay, I'll see you there."  
  
He hung up and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and scowled at it. Sheesh, Severian thought. He was worse than some old grandmother.  
  
He checked the mirror. No pursuit at all.   
  
Well, the route planning for the peons was a waste of time, he thought. No matter, better safe than sorry.  
  
An hour later, the car pulled off the highway and through the gates of a large ranch. It passed a line of limestone ridges and pulled to a stop at the end of a concrete runway. A Lear-jet sat, engines idling.  
  
Parking to the side of the runway, Severian went to the back of the car and took both paintings from the trunk. Refusing the pilot's offer of help, he hurried up the ladder and stepped aboard. The pilot came aboard after him and sealed the door.  
  
Settling into a seat, he nodded to the pilot's questioning face. Minutes later the plane was sweeping down the runway and into the air. Drumming his fingers on the armrest, Severian looked at the paintings across the aisle.  
  
They disturbed him, but he couldn't figure out why. Something about this whole plan disturbed him, but it wasn't his place to question the old bastard. Well, not too often. He grinned at the thought. Looking over at the paintings once more his grin faded.  
  
"I just work here," he murmured. He looked away and leaned back in his seat. Outside his window West Texas slid slowly by in the darkness, but his thoughts were focused further to the west.   
  
Sunnydale, the Hellmouth, and by all accounts one very dangerous Slayer lay ahead. Severian was unable to relax, and the hours passed slowly as the plane sped west into the night.  
  
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	2. Part One

Part One  
  
  
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"Buffy? Buffy, are you listening?"  
  
Buffy Summers jerked awake. She blinked her eyes then turned to her mother in the driver's seat.  
  
"Yes. This is me awake. And listening. Um, what did you say again?"  
  
Her mother rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I was asking you to try and get some of your friends to help with the show Saturday. Xander and Willow maybe." She paused to change lanes. "The caterer has agreed to pay part of the cost if I can find more help."  
  
"Pay?" Buffy said, sitting up straighter. "That will probably get Xander's attention for sure. I know it's gotten mine."  
  
Joyce Summers turned and drove to the front of Sunnydale High School. Stopping along the curb, she turned to her daughter again. "I think you haven't been sleeping enough. You look exhausted."  
  
"I haven't. I'll be okay, though."  
  
"You will be okay when you stop staying up so late," she scolded.  
  
Buffy smiled wanly. "I'll try."  
  
She stepped out of the car and shut the door. "See you tonight, mom."  
  
Her mother drove off and Buffy turned towards the school. Adjusting her backpack, she spied her two best friends-her only two friends, in fact-at a picnic table near the front of the school building.  
  
Xander Harris stood on one end of the table doing an imitation of Clint Eastwood­badly. He seemed oblivious to the distasteful stares of many of the students nearby. The only member of the audience that he was playing for was Willow Rosenberg.  
  
Willow was hanging on his every word, laughing at every little joke. Laughing a little too loudly.  
  
Buffy mentally shook her head. The poor girl had it for Xander badly, but he was too clueless to notice. If only she would speak up and have it over with, one way or another.  
  
"Buffy!" Xander shouted. He stopped his act in mid-sentence and jumped off the table. All of his attention was now focused on Buffy, Willow forgotten.  
  
Willow's eyes flashed disappointment at Xander's change of focus and she tried to hide it by brushing back her long red hair. After a moment she smiled warmly at Buffy's approach.  
  
Oh Willow, thought Buffy.  
  
"Hey Buffy," Willow said. She looked closer at her friend. "You look tired."  
  
"Yeah," Xander said. He stepped up close to her and took her elbow in hand. "You'd better rest on my shoulder."  
  
Buffy gave them a weak smile. "I'm okay. It was a bit of an excessive night."  
  
"Excessive like excessive fun or excessive not fun?" asked Xander.  
  
"Oohh! Was it Angel?" Willow said excitedly. "'Cuz that could get..." Buffy glared at her. "...Or maybe not."  
  
"No, it was homework of all things."  
  
"Oh the horror!" Xander put his hands to his face in a mock display of terror. "Will the evil never cease?"  
  
"You could have called me for help," Willow offered.  
  
Buffy gave her a withering glare.  
  
"Of course," Willow stammered, "I kinda left my computer online all night downloading those upgrades...so you couldn't."  
  
"I got it done," Buffy said. "I was hoping you guys could help me out this weekend." They both nodded, so she continued. "My mom is putting on a really big show at the gallery this Saturday night and she wanted me to ask you if you could help out. Serve food, hand out pamphlets and stuff."  
  
"Gee," Xander said, "that sounds like a big barrel of fun."  
  
"You'll get paid."  
  
"Paid? Well why didn't you say so?" Xander rubbed the fingers of one hand together. "We're talking cash money American, right?"  
  
Willow elbowed him in the ribs. "We'll be glad to help," she said.  
  
"Thanks guys." Buffy smiled at them. "It'll be dull but we'll have some extra money to go shopping with. And it'll earn me some much needed mom points."  
  
The bell rang and the three headed inside. As they reached the school doors Buffy sighed in resignation. "I suppose I should go see if Giles has anything exciting planned for this weekend."  
  
Xander dropped his skateboard to the hallway floor and said, "Check out this move I've perfected."  
  
* * *  
  
"Well I must confess that I've never heard of this particular...Of course if it has been hidden so well that would explain it...I see, though without the primary work translations can be sketchy at best...You have an original?"  
  
Rupert Giles leaned on the checkout counter of the Sunnydale High School Library, flipping through an old book with one hand while holding a phone in the other. The library doors swung open and the noise of giggling girls echoed through the room.  
  
"It's not that funny," Xander was telling Buffy and Willow. He held his hand to a bruise on his forehead.  
  
Stifling laughter, Willow said solemnly, "You're right." She held her composure for a moment then burst out laughing again. "I'm sorry, Xander," she snickered. Buffy held her hand over her mouth, her eyes glittering with amusement.  
  
Giles put his hand over the phone and said, "Shush."  
  
Willow quieted with difficulty and the three teenagers moved to sit at the long tables in the room's center. Xander tossed his bookbag on a table and sat on the back of one of the wooden chairs. "I'm glad that my pain amuses you so much," he muttered.  
  
Willow gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his arm.  
  
"Oh Xander," Buffy said, "after that amazing display of skill and dexterity, how could we not be amused?"  
  
Giles grimaced and held the phone tight against one ear while covering the other with his free hand.  
  
"Yes, very well. I'll see you Friday evening, then." Giles hung the phone up and turned to Buffy, Willow and Xander. "Do you think that it would be possible for the three of you to create any more noise?"  
  
"Give us a minute," Xander quipped, "we're just warming up."  
  
"Uh oh, I think I see Serious Giles approaching," Buffy said. Peering at Giles, "Yep, he's definitely Not-Having-Fun-Guy today."  
  
Giles stood frustrated for moment, searching for something to say. He gave up on a retort and said simply, "We're going to be having a visitor. Stephen Allinson. He is the great-great-grandson of Lord Alfred Stephen Allinson, who did a great deal of work at the turn of the century translating some of the more obscure prophecies for the Watchers."  
  
"This guy coming here, is he a Watcher then?" Willow asked.  
  
"No, not a Watcher." Giles turned to close the book he had been going through. "From what I've read, Lord Allinson got caught up in his youth with the Slayer of the time, much as you and Xander have done. She was killed eventually and he turned his fortune and energies to research. He spent the rest of his life travelling to the ends of the earth searching for occult knowledge." Giles paused for a moment, a dreamy look in his eyes. "Upon his death a great many volumes of lore were turned over to the Watchers. I have copies of much of that work." He gestured towards some of the books on his desk.  
  
"Research? Well you can count me out on that future career path," Xander blurted. "Besides, Buffy isn't going to get killed, so there will be no need."  
  
Buffy gave Xander a weak smile. "I like that last part." Motioning towards the phone she added, "This Steve guy is coming here?"  
  
"It's Stephen, and yes. It would seem that there have been a number of art thefts around the world recently. Not unusual in itself, but they do seem to be connected in some fashion. Young Mr. Allinson feels that they mirror some excerpts of Lord Allinson's notes. He contacted the Watchers, and they have sent him on to me."  
  
"He just looked under 'Watcher' in the phone book, then?" Xander said.  
  
Ignoring the outburst, Giles added, "He should be arriving this Friday afternoon. Willow, perhaps you could..." he waved vaguely towards the computer. "Find some information on these thefts. Allinson tells me that he will be bringing his materials, but it would behoove us to be as prepared as possible."  
  
Willow turned to the computer and logged in. "What kind of things have been stolen?"  
  
"Seventeenth century panel portraits," Giles said. He went up the staircase and vanished into the stacks.  
  
"What do we do?" Xander said, looking at Buffy. "Asking me to look up three hundred year old art is just a little irrational. I feel my strengths lie in other domains."  
  
"Like skateboard stunts," Willow said. Xander gave her a 'Gee, thanks' look. Willow smiled but did not look up from the computer.  
  
"Well, I'm not much help either," Buffy said. She put her feet up against the table and leaned back in her chair. "I guess I'll just have to wait till they tell me who to pummel."  
  
Giles returned from the stacks with a large coffee table book open in his hands. He came down the stairs and set it on the table beside Buffy. "In here someplace..." he murmured. "There."  
  
The pages in front of them help photographs of several paintings. All were small portraits surrounded by large wooden frames.   
  
"Now these depicted here are not the particular paintings that were stolen, but they are of the same style Allinson described."  
  
"Okay, ripped off pictures aren't real high on the creepy scale, so what's the deal?" Xander said. Buffy stared at the book with a confused look on her face.  
  
"It is Allinson's theory that the portraits in question may be hollow. Panel portraits are painted on thin wooden sheets rather than canvas." Giles drew himself up into full lecture mode.  
  
Xander cut in. "Why wood?"  
  
Giles started, then said, "Er, I don't know." He stood embarrassed for a moment then hurried to continue. "At any rate, it may be that inside these particular portraits are pieces of a spell or book or some item of power that has been scattered in order to hide it. Allinson has several theories, and he hopes I can help him flesh them out. Since a number of these portraits are being stolen, it would appear that somebody, something perhaps, is trying to reassemble whatever was hidden within them."  
  
"But why here? Sunnydale I mean? Or is this just another one of your lame 'Sunnydale is the convergence of all suckdom' explanations?"  
  
"Xander, are these pointless questions just an attempt to avoid being asked to help research?" Xander shifted uncomfortably for a moment. Giles continued, "I thought so. I didn't say anything about here being special, though it wouldn't surprise me. Stephen asked the Watchers for help and they referred him to me." Giles stood with a self-satisfied look on his face. He was about to continue when Buffy, silent for the past few moments, suddenly stirred.  
  
"Uh, I think it might be a Hellmouth thing after all."  
  
"What?" said Giles and Xander simultaneously. Willow looked up from the computer with a confused look on her face.  
  
Buffy pointed to the open book. "My mom's show at the gallery this weekend. She has some of these panel thingies in it."  
  
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	3. Part Two

Part Two  
  
  
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Kveltain stood at the rail on the balcony. Leaning against it, he stared silently at the streets below. Horns and lights filled the night, but they held little interest for him. Neither did the magnificent view of the city skyline beyond the darkness of the great park below. New York City was bright, loud and exciting, but still just another city at heart.   
Another human city, he thought.  
  
Breathing deeply, he straightened and gripped the rail with both hands.  
  
I'm losing it.  
  
He tried to quash the thought, but it skittered away and crept back.  
  
I'm fading out, losing touch or whatever you want to call it, but it is happening and I don't think there is anything I can do to stop it.   
  
Funny how you can feel yourself go, he mused. Supposedly if you could ask whether or not you were crazy, it meant you were not. Not in my case, though. I can feel myself going, and there is nothing I can do about it.  
  
It was quite horrifying. That in itself was amusing. After so many years and so many terrible things, going mad seemed to be such a little, petty thing to affect him so greatly.  
  
Kveltain turned back towards the spacious apartment behind him. The double doors that opened to the balcony were thrown open before him and light spilled out in the night. He strolled in, and cool air from inside rushed over him.  
  
Walking through the richly appointed rooms, he passed paintings and sculptures without noticing them. They were shiny baubles, collected in a failed attempt to bring some kind of peace over the years. Whatever relief they had brought had been fleeting; now they were just things to be walked past and ignored. He went deeper through the rooms. Coming to a hall, he turned toward a light shining in the kitchen.  
  
A white-haired old man sat at a table surrounded by tools. He wore surgeon's gloves, and he pried delicately at the edges of a thin slice of wood. It split suddenly and he lifted the top portion away and set it aside, then turned back to the bottom.  
  
Inside a thin hollow space lay a single sheet of beaten gold. Thin as paper, it was indented with angles and dots...runic-style characters. The old man turned and opened a dark wooden box. Rich, deep blue velvet lined the interior. He rubbed the fingers of his hands, then picked up a pair of identical tools. Each was a thin metal rod with a flat, shovel-like piece on one end.  
  
"Careful," he murmured to himself. He slipped the flat ends under the gold and lifted it carefully into the air. He placed it softly on the velvet in the box and shut the lid. Latching it closed, he exhaled loudly, then turned to Kveltain behind him. "That's the last of them."  
  
Kveltain stepped forward into the bright light. His dark, tired eyes belied his otherwise youthful appearance. Speaking quietly, he gestured towards the table. "Gather your things. The car is waiting downstairs. Tell the driver that I will be along shortly."  
  
He reached past the old man and picked up the wooden box. Leaving the kitchen, he went down a short hall and stepped into a dark office. An open briefcase lay on the desk. Within lay five boxes identical to the one he held in his hands. He set the box in the briefcase next to the others. Kveltain was about to shut the case when he paused and ran his fingers over one of the boxes. Six, he thought. I have six. Severian has two more and the last is in Sunnydale.  
  
An odd sense of irony swept over him. How strange that the last should await him in precisely the place they were to be used. An omen, perhaps? The prophecy attempting to assert itself? He stifled a wild urge to laugh.  
  
Maniacal laughter was a sure sign of insanity, he told himself. Grinning for a moment, he shut the briefcase, picked it up and turned to leave.  
  
Omens and prophecies? There was always a good and bad side of those. The trick to them lay in figuring out exactly what all the pieces meant before you were too deeply caught to do anything but ride along with them. Not this prophecy. This time he was going to dictate the way things went and to hell with some scraps written by a diseased lunatic nine hundred years ago.  
  
Smiling no more, he tightened his grip on the briefcase and left the room.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy flew back hard and slammed against a tombstone. Wincing in pain, she rolled away quickly as her assailant dove for her. Fangs gleaming in the dim light of a streetlamp, he crouched on all fours and issued a low growl. His breath was foul and putrid, and it hissed through his rotted lips. Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust. The vampire seemed to coil up for a moment, the lunged at her.  
  
Kicking her legs up into the air, Buffy caught the beast in the stomach. She pushed him on over her and with a final shove flipped him over. He sailed through the air onto a narrow tombstone, hitting the top with the small of his back. There was a sickening crunch and he flopped to the ground awkwardly. He moaned softly.  
  
Getting to her feet, Buffy said, "Feels good, doesn't it?" She pulled a stake from her jacket sleeve and plunged it into the vampire's chest. He flashed to ashes and Buffy brushed herself off. Putting the stake back into her sleeve, she sat on a tombstone and rubbed her back.  
  
"Not exactly the normal side of a Thursday evening," she muttered.  
  
A hand touched her shoulder.  
  
She yelped and leapt away. Spinning around, she fumbled for the stake in her sleeve.  
  
"Whoa, Buffy, its just me."  
  
Angel. He stood before her with hands in front of him protectively. His dark eyes glittered with amusement and a hint of a smile quivered on his lips.  
  
"God, Angel," Buffy shouted, "I told you to stop that!" With effort, she calmed and continued less loudly. "How much of an effort would it be to stomp some twigs or shake some branches?"  
  
"Sorry." Angel's smile said that he wasn't. "I was trying to get close and help, but you were finished before I could get here."  
  
Buffy tilted her head to one side and put on a blank, questioning look. "Let's see, isn't about now the time that you launch into a series of short, mysterious sentences about how some kind of big danger or new bad guy is in town, or maybe about how some curse of the purple whoosits is about to unfold?" He blinked at her. "Well not this time, cryptic one. I already know about the little hollow picture things and that one or more may be in my mom's show this weekend and this being the Hellmouth and all it probably means some lame prophecy about destroying the world is about to come true unless I stop it." She paused for a moment, then continued with a smug look. "See, I've got my own bad news for once and how do you like that?"  
  
Angel stood silently, his lips pursed.  
  
"Well, did I leave anything out?" Buffy said.  
  
"Ah, are you feeling okay? Because I don't know what you are talking about," Angel said. "Actually, the reason I came by was to see if you wanted to, uh, spend some time together. Now I think I'd better look into on these things you mentioned." He turned to go but Buffy grabbed his arm.  
  
"Wait. You, uh, wanted to spend some time with me?" Buffy gave him an uncertain smile and went on. "Maybe we could check on things together."  
  
Angel smiled and stepped towards her. "You seem to be having such a good time here," he gestured around the graveyard. "I wouldn't want to interfere."  
  
Buffy looked around and gave a shrug. "The novelty is kinda wearing thin. It was fun at first, but I think I'm ready to move on." She stepped right up against Angel. Looking up into his eyes, she said, "Know any new places?"  
  
Angel leaned down to kiss her. "Maybe," he murmured.  
  
* * *   
  
Across the graveyard sitting on a low tomb, Severian watched Angel and Buffy kiss. His mouth hung open in shock. Spitting out a half-eaten piece of candy, he began laughing softly. My, oh my, he thought. This town is weird.  
  
He slipped off the tomb and began walking away. Shaking more candy from the box in his hand, he said aloud, "Skittles. Much better than Dots, but not nearly as good as Junior Mints." Feeling a pang of real hunger, he put the box away. He left the graveyard and headed downtown, towards the pitifully small offering of nightclubs that Sunnydale boasted.  
  
Time for some real food.   
  
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	4. Part Three

Part Three  
  
  
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Willow Rosenberg trudged her way down the sidewalk to school. She was barely going to arrive in time. Xander Harris came by most mornings to walk with her to school. Not this morning. He hadn't shown up. Didn't even call, she pouted.  
  
Nearing school, a familiar car caught Willow's eye. Buffy. Her mother stopped in the midst of the school buses to let her out. As Willow drew closer, she could see Buffy struggling to get several posters out of the back seat. The homework from the other night, Willow remembered. Buffy had to give some kind of presentation in history today.   
Xander leapt down the stairs to the car. He took the posters from Buffy's hands before she could say a thing. Willow stopped still on the sidewalk and stared. Xander was never early to school. He always timed his arrival, and therefore hers, with the bell. He must have gone early just for the chance to carry a couple of posters for Buffy from the street to the building.  
  
Willow rolled her head back and looked at the sky for a moment. He never did anything like that for her. Will he ever notice me? she thought. Looking again towards Buffy and Xander, she watched them go into the school together. Buffy was laughing at something Xander was saying. And Xander, she noted was all but knocking people down because he wasn't watching where he was going. His eyes were on Buffy.  
  
Willow dropped her head and started walking again. Why shouldn't he keep his eyes on Buffy? She had great clothes, those boots and wonderful hair. Willow tugged lightly at one side of her long hair. Her long straight hair. It just sat there. Sighing, she went up the stairs and into the building.  
  
Great, she thought, I'm just starting the day and already I'm depressed. Lost in thought, Willow bumped into somebody hard.  
  
"Watch it, nerd!" Cordelia Chase shouted. Startled, Willow jumped back. Cordelia stood over her purse and a scattering of loose cosmetics. "If any of these are broken..." she was saying.  
  
"Uh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you," Willow stammered. She bent to pick up Cordelia's belongings. "Let me help you get them."  
  
"I so don't think so," Cordelia snapped. "Just get your nerd hands away from me." Behind her, the gaggle of Cordelia wannabe's talked over each other in order to be the first to agree with Cordelia.  
  
"Yeah, back nerd girl...Maybe she wants to steal one...It'll take more than that to fix her lame-o looks..."  
  
Willow stood silent for a moment, listening to their insults, then moved on around them. Heading down the hall, she tried to tune out the voices that called out to her as she left. Mercifully, a corner presented itself and she turned it. Stopping by a water fountain, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Could this day get any worse?  
  
The bell began to ring.  
  
Now I'm late, Willow realized. Well, one question answered.  
  
* * *  
  
First period over, Willow hurried toward the library. Buffy saw her from a distance and called out, but Willow pretended not to hear. She was in a hurry and besides, she was into her depression at the moment.  
  
It wasn't Buffy's fault Xander ignored her. Buffy just reminded her that Xander seemed to chase after just about every girl that wasn't Willow.  
  
I should time my brooding, Willow thought. Given the funk I'm in I think maybe I could best Owen. In spite of her mood, she smiled at the thought. Owen was a sensitive, brooding boy that most of the girls in school swooned over. Of course he paid no attention to them, making them desire him all the more. To the shock of many, especially Cordelia, Owen had actually taken his nose from a book long enough to take out Buffy on a date. He'd almost been killed by vampire, and he later professed his attraction to the danger of it all. For his own safety, Buffy had been forced to make their first date their only date. Owen had once more retreated to reading poetry. Of course I'm too busy to sit around reading Emily Dickinson all day like he does, Willow told herself.  
  
Reaching the library, she pushed quickly through the double doors and went right to the checkout counter. She swung her backpack onto the counter and opened it. "Giles," she called out, "I've got some printouts for you." She pulled a thick bunch of papers from the backpack and set it down on the counter.  
  
Giles came out of his office wiping his glasses with a cloth. "Oh good," he said. He put his glasses on and reached for the papers. "Was there anything of note?"  
  
Willow nodded. "I think so. Two panel portraits were stolen just last week in Texas. At sundown some guy took them out of a university museum. The police think he was on PCP or something because he jumped off a balcony and ran through a glass door."  
  
"Hmm, that sounds like a vampire." Giles stood for a moment in thought. "A brazen vampire at that."  
  
Willow took her backpack off the counter and turned to go.  
  
"I guess I'll see you at lunch then," Giles said. "We'll get these sorted and..."  
  
Willow spun around. "Maybe I have plans for lunch. Just because I don't have boys chasing me like Buffy or I'm not off carrying posters for people doesn't mean I don't have anything else to do." Willow stood for a moment with a look at frustration on her face.  
  
Giles stood speechless for a moment. "Oh...I'm sorry. That was terribly presumptuous of me. If you get a chance to stop by..." Giles paused, looking at Willow, then hurried to continue. "Whenever that may be, of course, I would be grateful." He held up the printouts. "As I already am. Grateful, that is."  
  
Willow looked down at her feet and fidgeted. She bit her lip for a second then raised her head back up. "Um, I don't have any plans. I'll see you at lunch," she whispered. She turned and fled the room.  
  
Giles stared after her for a few seconds, then shook his head in confusion. Gripping the printouts, he returned to his office.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow sat at one of the tables in the school courtyard eating her lunch quickly. She was just finishing when Xander and Buffy found her.  
  
"Hey Will," Xander called. "We were going to eat with you, but it looks like you're done already. What's with the speed feed?"  
  
"Library. Giles." Willow said through a mouthful of sandwich. She waved her hand vaguely. "Research."  
  
Buffy sat down next to her. "I know you guys will find out what this is about. I really don't like the idea that my mom's gallery might have something that vampires want."  
  
"At least they're not normally into art and stuff," Xander said. "Did you see the junk Angel had in his apartment? What kind of crap was that?"  
  
Buffy looked at him. "Anyway, I want to get whatever they want out of the gallery and away from my mom." She turned to Willow. "If you can find out which picture things are the ones they are after, then we can get them out of there."  
  
Willow nodded. Finishing her soda, she stood to leave.  
  
"Is something the matter?" Buffy asked.  
  
Willow's eyes darted to Xander then came back to Buffy. "No. I just have a lot to do."  
  
"Are you sure? Maybe I should come help you."  
  
Willow shook her head. "That's okay. I'll see you guys in class."  
  
As Willow walked slowly away, Buffy hit Xander in the shoulder. "Ow!" he cried. "What did I do?" Buffy glared at him. "What, should I go help her? I'm no good at that stuff. I'd just be in the way."  
  
"I think maybe Willow wants some company," Buffy said. "Let's eat then go sit with her."  
  
Xander gave Buffy an exasperated look, then said, "Alright, we'll go sit with Willow. Jeez, I don't get what the deal is." He started eating.  
  
Buffy just looked at him. No, she thought sadly, you don't.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow sat at the table, flipping through the pages of a large art book. Spread out around the book were printouts from newspaper articles. The pictures showed a variety of stolen panel portraits. Chewing on her hair, Willow leaned down toward the book. It seemed as if the stolen portraits were similar, but figuring out how seemed to be just beyond her grasp. She leaned down so far that her nose was almost touching one of the pictures. She almost had it...  
  
"Excuse me," a voice said.  
  
"Eeek!" Willow shrieked.  
  
A young man stood in front of Willow by the long table. He started at Willow's outburst and stepped back. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."  
  
Willow stood silent, embarrassment on her face. "That's okay," she managed. "What are you looking for? Are you a teacher..." She looked him over. He had sandy blond hair, dark brown eyes and friendly face. He was also dressed like a teacher-slacks, nice shirt, tie-but he didn't look old enough, maybe twenty-two at the most. He was rather cute, though.  
  
"A teacher? No, I'm here to see Rupert Giles. Is he around?"  
  
Giles came from office. "Stephen Allinson?" The young man turned to him and nodded. "I'm very glad to meet you." Sticking his hand out, he added, "I'm Rupert Giles."  
  
"It's a pleasure," Stephen said. He waved his hand toward a large suitcase back by the library entrance. "I went ahead and brought my materials straight here."  
  
"Excellent," said Giles. His eyes sparkled with excitement. "Having so many primary sources must make your research a real treat."  
  
"It helps, but there are a few gaps. I don't have many works on the Slayer..." Stephen paused and glanced at Willow.  
  
"It's okay," Giles explained. "Willow Rosenberg knows about the Slayer. She helps me a great deal with research"  
  
Stephen turned to Willow and extended his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Willow. I'm sorry I startled you."  
  
Smiling, Willow replied, "That's okay. Uh, what kind of books do you have?"  
  
"Books, books, books," Xander said loudly. He and Buffy came into the library. "One day Willow, your addiction is going to get you into trouble. Admitting you have a problem is the first step."  
  
Giles, with a touch of irritation, said to Stephen, "This is Xander Harris and Buffy Summers. Buffy is the Slayer, Xander is... Um, Buffy and Xander, meet Stephen Allinson." Rubbing his hands together, Giles went to get the suitcase. "I suppose you are eager to just dive in and get to work. What is it exactly that you need my help with?"  
  
"There are several gaps in my great-great-grandfather's diaries. Most of them are from the time he spent with Natalia, the Slayer at that time. I was hoping that the Watcher Diaries you have can fill some of the holes."  
  
Giles nodded, "Yes, I thought it might be something like that. I've brought the relevant volumes here...actually I brought them all." He gestured to his office. "Would you like to..."  
  
"Actually, I'm pretty tired," Stephen said. "I've been digging through those things," he waved his arm to the suitcase, "so much the last few weeks I'm going nuts. If possible, I'd like to take the evening off and rest up. We could start early tomorrow, though." He stifled a yawn. "Help yourself to the material, though. I keep my notes simple and clean, so you shouldn't have any trouble getting started."  
  
Giles stood holding the suitcase like a child with a Christmas present. "Oh, rest up. Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you tomorrow then. Buffy, maybe you and Xander could..." he motioned to Stephen.  
  
"What about my mom's gallery?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Oh my," Giles said. He put his hand to his forehead. "How could I forget. There is an art show at the local gallery, run by Buffy's mother, which has a number of panel portraits in it. Willow has been studying the stolen paintings to try and find a link that could help us. We'd like to see if any of these in the show are involved."  
  
Stephen's face clouded with doubt. "Do you really think it would be here? I mean the odds of it..." he trailed off. He furrowed his brow, then continued, "Then again, Sunnydale is the Hellmouth, after all. But coincidences like this are more in line with unfolding prophecies and such, and there are no mentions of this being related to any prophecy."  
  
Buffy put her hands on her hips. "Well, I want to be sure. If one of these paintings is there, then it puts my mom and all of us in danger."  
  
"Yes, yes," said Giles. "Perhaps we should go to the gallery and look at them."  
  
"Hey," said Xander, "don't you think your mom will think it's a little odd if the school librarian and all of us show up, during school no less, to check this stuff out?"  
  
"You mean your mother doesn't know about you?" Stephen asked Buffy.  
  
"No, and I'd like to keep it that way."  
  
Stephen put his hand up in front of him, "Fine, fine. I don't want to be any trouble."  
  
"Buffy, that show you mentioned, it is tomorrow evening, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then we'll all go and look them over. That will give us time to try and find a way to determine if any of them are involved." Giles looked at Stephen for a moment, then back to Buffy. "Why don't we let Stephen rest up, and we'll meet back here tomorrow morning."  
  
Stephen glanced at Xander before speaking to Buffy. "What is there to do on a Friday night around here? I need to take a nap, but afterwards it might be nice to do something relaxing."  
  
"What do you do to relax?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Do we dare ask?" Xander muttered, his eyes on the suitcase of books.  
  
Stephen shrugged "Oh, I don't know. Something with a lot of people. I'm a little stir crazy. It would be nice to go out someplace."  
  
Buffy thought for a moment. Having him around might be weird. Still, she should be nice. "Why don't you come to the Bronze with us tonight. It's the only decent club in town." Looking him over, she hesitated. "Uh, maybe you're a little old for that kind of thing."  
  
Stephen laughed. "No, I still like that sort of thing." He turned to Willow. "Will you be coming? I'd like the chance to make up for scaring you like that."  
  
Willow stood speechless for a second. "Me? Uh, okay, sure," Willow said.   
  
Stephen smiled at her, then turned to leave. "What time should we meet there?"  
  
"How about eight o'clock," Buffy said. "Maybe I should give you directions."  
  
"If it's the only nightclub in town, I think I'll be able to find it. Now I'd like to sleep off some of this jetlag." Stephen turned to Giles. "I'm at the Holiday Inn, room 224." To the others, "I'll see you at eight then." He smiled at Willow, then headed for the doors.  
  
After Stephen left the library, Xander turned to everybody and said, "Great, we're taking Young Giles to the Bronze for Friday night. It's gonna be a whirligig of fun."  
  
"You just don't like him because he's cute," Willow said.  
  
"He's cute? When did this happen? He's a book freak. Buffy, you don't think he's cute do you?"  
  
"Why, not at all Xander," Buffy said, smiling. "Willow does though."  
  
Xander rolled his eyes at Willow. "I should have known. That geeky tie, those dusty books..."  
  
Willow's face turned crimson. "I...I was just..." She looked down at the pictures again. "I need to finish this."  
  
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	5. Part Four

Part Four  
  
  
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"Who is this band?" Xander said. He twisted his face in disgust and looked over his shoulder at the stage. "They suck."  
  
"I think they're from San Diego," Buffy said.  
  
"Well, they need to go back." Xander turned back to Buffy and Willow. He gave a shudder as the singer hit an off key note loudly.  
  
"They're not so bad," Willow said. She looked up to the stage. The singer was hopping back and forth, warbling into the microphone. Behind him the rest of the band stood as they played, looking at one another in embarrassment. "Maybe they're just having an off night," she suggested.  
  
"Off...I'd like to second that motion. All in favor of turning them off, raise your hand." Xander put one hand in the air and looked to Buffy and Willow expectantly.  
  
Buffy shook her head. "They don't bother me that much."  
  
Xander turned to Willow, "Will? Some support here?"  
  
Willow smiled and held up a keychain. "They gave me this when I came in. I'm going to show some loyalty."  
  
"You got a keychain? Why didn't I get one?" Xander blurted.  
  
"Because you were late, as always. They ran out pretty fast."  
  
Xander looked sadly at Willow and slowly shook his head. "You're too easy Will. One tawdry piece of plastic and they own you." He glanced over towards the bar. "I'm getting a coke or something." He left the table and began weaving his way through the crowd.  
  
Willow's eyes followed him for a moment, and then she looked down at her ice cream.  
  
Buffy leaned forward and put her hand on Willow's arm. "What's the matter, Will? You've been sad all week, and today you've hardly spoken."  
  
Looking up at Buffy, Willow had a tear in her eye. "I don't know. For some reason, it's just hitting me hard right now. Xander, I mean." She wiped her eye with one hand. "There's no reason why it should, I guess. Nothing's really changed." Looking down again, she stirred her ice cream with the plastic spoon. Buffy could see that little of it had been eaten. "I just feel so worn out by it all."  
  
"Willow, you need to say something." Buffy squeezed her arm. "Xander is clueless, yes, but he's your best friend. Tell him. What are you afraid of? He's not going to be mean to you."  
  
"He is my best friend. If he's not going to notice that I want more...I guess I just don't want to mess up what we have." Willow looked toward Xander across the room. He was twisting through the dancers, trying to dance and hold up his drink all at the same time. He saw Willow and gave a goofy smile-then slammed right into Cordelia.  
  
Willow laughed and turned back to Buffy. "I'll be okay. It's just a phase."  
  
Buffy could see the lie on her friend's face. "You should have some fun. Meet somebody." Seeing the objection forming on Willow's face, she hurried to continue. "You don't have to get engaged or anything. Just have some fun." She waved her arm around. "Dance with somebody. That Stephen guy today was kinda cute."  
  
Willow gave a shy smile. "Yeah, I guess. He is older, though. He probably just sees us as kids." Behind her, Cordelia's voice rose to a piercing shriek as she and Xander exchanged insults.  
  
Buffy grinned at her. "Girl, I am the last one to worry about age. It's Friday night; no evil curse unfolding-yet anyway-and we're at a party. Have some fun." Buffy looked around for Angel but didn't see him. Maybe he'll show later, she told herself.  
  
Willow thought for a moment, then smiled brightly. "You know what, I think I will." The smile left her face and she looked around nervously. "Uh, who should I dance with? I mean, I don't know if I could just go up to somebody."  
  
Xander returned to the table. He set his drink down and clenched his fists together. "Okay, that was so not fun." He turned to Buffy and said, "Hey, you want to dance? Take my mind off my troubles?"  
  
Ignoring Xander, Buffy leaned toward Willow. "Just think about it. But not too long."  
  
"Mind if I join you?"  
  
The three turned to see Stephen standing a few feet away. There was a touch of nervousness to his question.  
  
"Stephen," Buffy said, "we were beginning to worry about you."  
  
"No we weren't," Xander muttered.   
  
"Xander," Willow scolded. Turning to Stephen she smiled at him, "We're glad you could come."  
  
Stephen pulled a chair from another table and slid it over. Settling into it, he said to Buffy, "I think maybe I could have used those directions." He smiled apologetically then looked around. "So, this is the best club in town?"  
  
"We don't have a lot of town here," Xander explained. "I bet it's nowhere near the level of fun you must have in all those world famous libraries."  
  
Stephen looked at Xander. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.  
  
"Xander just had a run in with Cordelia," Willow explained. She turned and pointed her out. "She and Xander don't really get along, and he sometimes loses his manners after they, uh, talk." Willow gave Xander a glare, which he returned with a weak smile. "Do you go out much?"  
  
Stephen shook his head. "Not really. I used to, but it just isn't as much fun anymore." He paused and looked up at the band. "These guys are terrible." Turning back, he said, "I have been working on this portrait mystery for so long, I think I'm going nuts. That's why I needed to take the night off and just relax."  
  
Buffy kicked Willow under the table. Willow's eyes widened and she shook her head back at her.   
  
"You know," Buffy said, "this song isn't so bad. I think I want to dance." She grabbed Xander's arm and pulled him onto the dance floor.  
  
Bewilderment on his face, Xander said "Whaa? Maybe we should stay with Willow." He looked back at the table as Buffy dragged him away.  
  
Willow watched them leave with terror on her face. "Guys..." she whispered. Turning to Stephen, she bit her lip and searched for something to say. Stephen looked at Xander and Buffy, then at Willow. "I guess...So what's the most interesting thing you've ever found in your research?" she asked. Oh, that was really cool, Willow thought to herself.  
  
Stephen raised his eyebrows and stared at her.  
  
* * *  
  
"Buffy, I'm tired. Please let me sit down," Xander whined. He flopped his head back and looked at the ceiling. "Is this some kind of punishment? You know, dance with me till I collapse from exhaustion and then I'll never bother you again?" He looked at Buffy.  
  
Buffy was staring at the table. She turned back to him in confusion. "What? Did you say something?"  
  
Xander stopped dancing and just looked at her. "Okay, what's going on? Why are we leaving Willow alone with that...hey, they're dancing!"  
  
Buffy spun around. "Where?!" Spotting Willow and Stephen she hopped up and down. "This is so cool. Doesn't Willow look happy?"  
  
"Yeah, just peachy." Xander watched Willow and Stephen together across the dance floor. What was Willow up to? This wasn't like her. Suddenly he grabbed Buffy and twisted her back to face him. "Buff, we've got to do something. This guy, this older guy, Willow shouldn't be messing around with somebody like him."  
  
"I guess you're right. He's smart, he's polite, Willow seems to like him and they're having fun together." She gestured at the two. Stephen was laughing at something Willow was saying. "Yeah, there's no way we can let something like this go on."  
  
"Come on, Buffy. He's older than she is." Buffy raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to mention Angel. "We're talking about Willow here," he said quickly. "This guy is in town for just a little while, he makes with the smooth talk, Willow's never had even a real date. Don't you see?"  
  
"I see somebody who sounds remarkably jealous." Buffy said. She had the hint of a smile on her face. "Is that what I see?" Come on Xander, Buffy thought, I hope that's what I see. Maybe you will wake up finally.  
  
"Jealous! Don't be...I'm just worried is all. Willow's my best bud, I don't want her to be hurt." Xander stared thoughtfully at them for a moment. "Besides, other than what Giles said, we really don't know anything about him."  
  
Buffy turned to look back at Willow and Stephen. "Well, I'll keep an eye on them. Come on, let's sit down. These heels are killing my feet."  
  
Xander collapsed in a chair at their table. Putting his elbows up, he rested his chin in his hands and watched Willow dance. She seemed to be having a good time. He noted that Stephen never touched her. He was polite, at least.  
  
Maybe too polite.  
  
"Isn't it nice to see Willow out there for once? She always just sits here." Buffy turned to Xander with a smug look on her face. "Well, I suppose my work here is done." She gave Xander a look over. "Maybe I can find somebody for you..."  
  
"No thanks," Xander said. "Um, Buffy, I'm not so sure that's what you were hoping for." He gestured towards Willow. "Book boy there is doing the 'Hey, you're nice but let's be friends' dance out there." I should know, he thought. I've done it to Willow enough times myself.  
  
Buffy chewed on her thumb and turned to the dance floor. She turned back around. "Well, it doesn't matter. Just as long as she is having a good time," she said more to herself than Xander.   
  
The song ended and Willow all but ran over to the table. "Hey guys," she said. Her face was lit up and she spoke quickly. "We're having so much fun." She smiled at Stephen as he came back to the table. Stephen nodded to Buffy and Xander.  
  
"I'd better take off," Buffy said. "I need to make a sweep through the graveyard then get some sleep." She stifled a yawn with her hand. "I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow. Ew, school on Saturday."  
  
"Want some help?" Xander asked. Buffy started to tell him no, but he went on. "Willow, you coming?"  
  
Willow glanced at Stephen and stood uncertainly for a moment.  
  
"I need to be going as well," Stephen said. "It'll be a long day tomorrow. If you like, I could come with you Buffy." He grinned for a moment. "It might be exciting to see the Slayer in action."  
  
"Mmm, action isn't exactly what I'm looking for," Buffy said. "Just a boring walk through the graves and then home." Buffy looked at Willow thoughtfully. "Stephen, why don't you walk Willow home? Since Xander is coming with me." Xander started to speak but Buffy stepped on his foot, hard. "Just be careful," she told them.  
  
Willow turned to Stephen, "That would be nice. If you don't mind, that is."  
  
* * *  
  
Willow walked silently next to Stephen. They were just a few blocks from the Bronze, and she couldn't think of anything to say.  
  
What do I do, she wondered? Does he like me? Am I just being pathetic and desperate? She looked over at him, but couldn't bring herself to say anything. When Stephen finally spoke she was so startled she almost tripped and fell.  
  
"This was fun. It's been so long since I've been out that I'd forgotten what it was like."  
  
"Yes," Willow said. "I had fun, too." Great, she thought. Real witty. Buffy would have known what to say. She knew how to talk to guys.  
  
"So, is there something up with you and Xander?" Stephen asked. He looked down at her with a serious look.   
  
He's so tall, Willow thought. What did he say? "Uh, what? Me and Xander?" Willow searched for something to say but nothing came. What do I say, she wailed silently?  
  
"I was just wondering," Stephen went on. "He doesn't seem to like me very much." He stopped and looked back.  
  
Willow turned to follow his gaze. "Is there..."  
  
"Huh? Oh, nothing." Stephen started walking again.  
  
"Xander's just..." Willow struggled for a moment. "I've known him my whole life. He's just irrational sometimes. There's nothing to worry about." Well now, Willow thought. He'll think Xander is crazy. That was good.  
  
"I don't socialize too well," Stephen said. "What did Xander call me? Book geek, or something?" Willow winced. "Fitting, I suppose. I don't get out anymore." He looked down to Willow and smiled. "Do you? Get out, that is?"  
  
"Not really. Tonight," she pointed back towards the Bronze, "is about as wild as I ever get." She gave a forced smile and looked down. Great, she thought, just tell him you haven't been on a real date in your life. That'll impress him.  
  
Stephen stopped and looked at her for a long moment. His eyes didn't budge from her own, but Willow could feel them taking all of her in anyway. Suddenly the moment passed.   
  
Looking away for a moment Willow felt herself blushing. Does he like me, she wondered? It was scary. Scary in a good way, she thought. Don't say anything stupid, she told herself. Be cool.  
  
"Wild as you ever get? People think they have to act stupid to have good time," Stephen said. He started walking again. "I liked your wild. It was refreshing."  
  
Relief washed over Willow. Thank God he spoke, I didn't know what to say, she thought. Wait, what did he say? He liked my wild?  
  
"Maybe..." she hesitated, then closing her eyes, she spoke quickly to force the words out. "Maybe we can, uh, do it again?" Willow clenched her hands together and shut her eyes.  
  
Stephen grabbed her arm and forced her to a stop.  
  
"Hey..." she said. Opening her eyes, she saw two men stepping out of the shadows in front of them. In the dim streetlight, Willow could see their horrible, twisted faces. One of them smiled and his fangs gleamed in the light.  
  
Holding Willow's arm tightly, Stephen began to back up.  
  
"I don't think so," said a voice behind them.   
  
Willow squealed and looked back. A single vampire stood a few scant feet away. He twisted his rotted lips into a smile. "You two aren't going anywhere...ever."  
  
Stephen let go of Willow and leapt at the lone vampire. Surprised, the beast fell back. It tripped on the curb and fell down. The other two snarled and charged.  
  
Stephen grabbed Willow by the arm threw her hard down the street, past the fallen vampire. "Go!" he shouted. "Go find Buffy!"  
  
The first of the running vamps reached Stephen and tried to jump onto his back. Stephen flipped him over his shoulder and onto the one just getting to his feet. Both fell to the ground.  
  
Willow stood, uncertain. "Stephen..."  
  
"Go dammit!" The third vampire grabbed Stephen by the arm. "Run child," Stephen pleaded.  
  
Her eyes filling with tears, Willow turned and ran.   
  
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	6. Part Five

Part Five  
  
  
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"There they are, just like I told you," Dalton said. Though he was brighter than most people—and vampires—Dalton was possibly one of the least threatening vampires to ever exist. He often dressed in turn of the century clothing and he actively avoided conflict of all kinds. His intelligence, though, made him too useful to be ignored and Spike often sent him on hazardous errands. Crouching behind a low wall, Dalton straightened his glasses and looked at Spike. Nervousness filled Dalton's face, and it grew with each passing moment. As he watched, Spike grew visibly angry.  
  
"Are you sure they're vampires?" Spike asked. He stood by the crouching Dalton, staring toward the Sunnydale docks. In front of an old rusty freighter a pair of men were lowering crates from the deck. Hands in his pockets, he looked around the empty wharves. Rubbing the back of his head in annoyance, he looked at Dalton. "They could just be criminals."  
  
Dalton rose up slightly and peered over the wall. "That one," he said, pointed to a woman in a pants suit, "I saw her feed on a street kid last night. That's why I followed her when I saw her near that hotel tonight. I called you when she met these others."   
  
The woman Dalton pointed to held a clipboard and was checking the numbers on the crates. Though her clothes could be a disguise, the way she moved and commanded the workmen seemed to fit a corporate professional more than a vampire.  
  
"Are you sure?" Spike said. "Maybe this isn't the same woman you saw. Have you cleaned your glasses lately?"  
  
The two men came down the gangway and stood by the crates, waiting. As Spike watched, a Ryder truck drove up and parked. The driver got out and joined the others. The woman finished with the clipboard said, "Let's get them loaded. We're seven minutes over schedule so move it. He has ordered that these be secured within the hour."  
  
Spike's eyes narrowed. Now I know they're not human, he thought. He watched as two of the men carried a crate too large for just two humans to manage. "Let's just see what this about, then." He turned and motioned his own group of vampires forward. Perhaps Dalton had stumbled onto something after all.  
  
Spike's men, a dozen in all, rose from their hiding places and went over the wall and formed into a ragged line. Spike moved to the front and walked forward into the light. "You know," he said loudly, "some would consider it rude to trespass on another's territory. I know I would." His face twisted and Spike flashed his fangs in a wicked smile. "I don't like rude people."  
  
Spinning around, the woman dropped the clipboard. She transformed before their eyes and snarled. "Mind your own business. This is none of your concern." The professional appearance she had displayed earlier was gone. The business outfit she wore was in stark contrast to the vile, fanged horror that her face had become.  
  
"You're pretty now, aren't you pet?" Spike said. "Now, before I get angry, why don't you tell me why you are in my town?" He folded his arms behind his back, looking expectantly at her.  
  
A man jumped from the back of the truck and walked slowly around into view. "Why don't we all just calm down?" he said pleasantly.  
  
Spike raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together tightly. "And just who might you be?" He nodded towards the woman. "Is this your poodle, then? She needs a bath and a trim I'd say."  
  
The man came forward until he stood next to the female vampire. He was dressed in blue jeans and simple cotton shirt, but he had an air of style about him. He looked Spike over for a moment, then turned to the woman. "Well, Claudia? Why the fuss?"  
  
Keeping her eyes on Spike, she said, "We were almost done when Billy Idol here showed up." She tossed her hair back and gave Spike a look of challenge. "I can take care of this."  
  
Spike took a step forward enraged. Forcing himself to calm slightly, he spoke in a stern voice that shook with repressed anger. "You would do well to mind that tongue, love."  
  
"Well, leather boy," she hissed, "why don't you make me?" Behind her, the three vampires by the crates grinned.  
  
The man in blue jeans put his hand on her arm. "Hold on a minute, Claudia. Let's all just calm down. We have been rude. After all, Spike was here in Sunnydale first."  
  
Spike's eyes snapped toward the man at the mention of his name. "Just who are you and how do you know my name?" His voice shook with rage, but he continued to control himself.  
  
"My name is Severian, and we need the Hellmouth here to help cast a little spell."  
  
"Well Severian, I don't know where you are from—"  
  
"Nineveh." Severian interrupted.  
  
"—But around here I run things." Spike continued. "And I don't like outsiders in my town." He looked at Claudia. "And I don't much take to insults, either." His anger boiling, Spike ground a fist into his hand.  
  
"When our little fun is over with, we will leave." He looked past Spike to the vampires behind him. "How about you send your boys home and we talk about this."  
  
"Uh, Spike." Dalton said.  
  
Spike made a show of thinking, then leaned forward, a sneer on his lips. "I don't think so. The whole talking as equals thing just isn't my cup of tea. I think we need an object lesson here, people." Without turning, he pointed to one of the vampires behind him. "Hurt her."  
  
Grinning, the vampire came forward. He held an iron pipe, which he patted against one hand. "This is gonna be bad," he snarled.  
  
"Spike." Dalton said insistently. Spike looked at him in annoyance and motioned him to shut up.  
  
Claudia turned to Severian, eagerness on her face. He held his hand up to her and shook his head no. She snarled in frustration and turned back to face Spike and the oncoming vampire.  
  
As the pipe-wielding vampire passed Spike he began to walk faster. Ten feet from Claudia, he began to run. Lifting the pipe over his head, he loosed an animal roar.  
  
In an instant, Severian stepped forward and struck him. The blow landed open handed on the side of his head, and tore it off. Surprise was on his face as his head flew through the air. It turned to dust before hitting the ground. The vampire's body staggered for a moment, then flashed to dust as well.  
  
Spike's mouth dropped open in shock. He'd never seen strength like that before. To make matters worse, Severian hadn't even changed his form. He remained human in appearance. Several of the vampires behind Spike turned and ran into the night.  
  
Dalton grabbed Spike's arm. "Spike. Nineveh was the capital of Assyria. If he's telling the truth…." Dalton looked at Severian in fear.  
  
"Why does it always take a demonstration?" Severian asked Claudia in a pleasant voice. She shrugged and smiled at Spike. "Well Spike," Severian continued, "I really must apologize. I was told to contact you when I arrived, but I didn't."   
  
Claudia flashed a look of disapproval at Severian. "We must obey—"  
  
Severian cut her short with a chopping motion. "I've been so busy sightseeing," he went on, "I just haven't gotten around to it. I've seen the strangest things here. Fascinating town, Sunnydale."  
  
Spike pulled his eyes from the pipe lying on the ground. "Um, what was that?" He put his arms into the pockets of his leather overcoat and tried to keep his voice calm. "You'll be here for a short while, was it?"  
  
"Told to?" Dalton said, staring in horror at Severian. "Somebody tells you what to do?"  
  
Claudia stepped forward and spoke to Dalton with vigor in her voice. "Yes, the Old One. He commands us, we are his child—"  
  
Severian cut her off in annoyance. "Let's cut out the worship speak. Okay?" He gave a quick shudder. Looking at Spike, he explained. "I'm not running this show, I just work here." He walked a few feet towards Spike. "You know where the Hellmouth is, don't you? Exactly, I mean?"  
  
Spike nodded, warily. "Yeah. I can show you. I don't have a use for it, yet anyway." He thought for a moment. "What's this spell about?"  
  
"I don't know. Like any good soldier, I do as I'm told. I've also learned not to ask questions. I will tell you this; he's been setting this up for at least nine hundred years. Maybe longer. You can imagine how put out he'll be if anything messes this up."  
  
Spike stood silent for a moment. "What can you do?" he said in a cheerful voice to Dalton. To Severian he added magnanimously, "You can cast your spell. I'll help. You know, show you around, post lookouts, that sort of thing." He gave a wry grin to Severian. "Teammates, then?"  
  
Severian smiled faintly. Cutting off an outburst from Claudia, he said, "Thank you. That is very generous."  
  
Spike walked over and stood next to Severian. "So, any chance you'll tell me what's in the boxes."  
  
Severian laughed. "Why coffins, of course!"  
  
Disgust on his face, Spike said, "Oh please! I hope you are kidding."  
  
"Not what you think." Severian gestured toward the crates. "Listen."  
  
Spike couldn't hear anything. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated. There… a faint whisper… He cocked his head to one side and shut his eyes completely. Tuning out the noises of the docks, he listened…There, he could hear it.  
  
Moaning.  
  
He looked at Severian, confusion on his face. "What, or who, is in there?"  
  
Severian smiled at him, and it was terrible to behold.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy sat on the low brick wall that enclosed part of the Sunnydale graveyard. She pulled her shoes off and handed them to Xander. "Ahh…" she moaned. "My poor feet." Reaching into her bag, she took out a pair of tennis shoes and began to lace them on.  
  
Xander looked down at the shoes in his hand. "How can you walk in these things?"  
  
Buffy grimaced. "Shoes like that are for looks. Yeah, they're painful, but that's the price you pay for trendy." She hopped down. "Much better," she said looking at her feet.  
  
Holding Buffy's shoes, Xander glanced back in the direction of the Bronze. "Do you think Willow really likes that guy?" When Buffy hesitated, he looked away.  
  
"Xander," she said finally. "I don't know. She probably is just enjoying the attention." Buffy looked down and kicked a pebble. "Maybe you were right. Maybe this guy was just being nice to her." She took the shoes from Xander's hands and stuffed them into her bag.  
  
"Yeah," Xander said, "maybe." He trailed off and stood silent.  
  
Buffy twisted a lock of hair with her fingers. "Xander…" Hesitating, she started again. "Xander, maybe you should be thinking about why this is bothering you so much?" Buffy winced as she said it, but she looked carefully at Xander for his reaction.  
  
"Me?!" Xander started. He stepped back and pointed to himself. "Why this is bothering…" He paused, searching for something to say. "I just don't want Willow to get hurt," he said finally. He turned slightly and looked down. He put on a show of counting the cracks in the concrete. Someday you're going to have to decide what you really mean by that, he thought to himself.  
  
"You said that earlier." As Buffy looked at her friend, she could see the play of emotions go across his face. Maybe, she thought. She reached out and took Xander's arm. "Care to walk a girl through the graveyard?"  
  
"One hunky escort guy at your service," he said. Seeing her expression, he hastily added, "Uh, one not-so-hunky-thank-you-for-even-talking-to-me escort guy?"  
  
"You are really good at sucking up," Buffy said sweetly. "How do you do it so easily?"  
  
"Well, it takes dedication. And lot's of practice."  
  
As they entered the graveyard, Angel stepped out from behind a mausoleum. "Buffy, I…" His eyes dropped to stare at Buffy's arm locked in Xander's, "need to talk to you," he finished. Looking at Xander, he put his hands in his jacket pockets and bit one side of his lips.  
  
"Angel," Buffy said in surprise, "We were just…" She took her arm from Xander and stepped towards Angel. Behind her, Xander scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and looked at Angel with irritation. "We were just going to patrol and then go home. Each to our home, I mean."  
  
"If you're not too busy," Angel said, "then maybe you'd like to hear about what's going on down by the docks." He gave Buffy a glare. "Then again, maybe you and Xander would rather be alone." With that, he spun and turned to leave.  
  
"Angel!" Buffy grabbed his arm. "Calm down! What's with you?" She turned him back around to face her and tried to change the subject. "What's down at the docks?"  
  
Before he could answer, a voice called out to them. "Buffy!" Willow's voice.  
  
They all looked down the street to see Willow running towards them.   
  
Xander was the first to go. "Willow!" he shouted and ran towards her. Buffy let go of Angel and ran after him. Angel stood for a moment watching her, then followed as well.  
  
As Xander came close he could see tears streaming down Willow's face. "Will!" he cried. She ran into him and collapsed against his chest, gasping for air and crying at the same time. Xander held her close to him, squeezing her tightly in his arms. "What is it? What happened."  
  
"Steph… Stephen," she struggled out between breaths.  
  
"Did he hurt you?" Xander's voice quaked with anger.  
  
Buffy ran up and put her hand on Willow's arm. "Will, what's going on?"  
  
'Vampires," Willow breathed. "They jumped out." She lifted her head from Xander's chest and pleaded with Buffy. "Stephen, he's still there. Past the Bronze." She turned and sobbed into Xander's chest. "I just ran," she whispered.  
  
Xander stroked Willow's hair as she cried. "Buffy, go. I'll stay with her." He leaned his head down and spoke softly to Willow. "Nothing you could do, Will."  
  
Buffy looked at Xander for a moment with dread on her face. With a deep breath, she turned and ran down the street, back towards the Bronze.  
  
Xander turned to Angel. "Well don't just stand there," he shouted, but Angel had already run after Buffy. Xander watched him go, then looked down at the girl in his arms. "Shh," he said, stroking her hair, "it's going to be okay."  
  
Xander stood in the darkness, holding Willow tight.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy was breathing heavily as she passed the Bronze. A few people outside saw her, but jumped out her way as she sprinted by. A few wisecracks reached her ears, but she ignored them.  
  
Why didn't we all go together? It was stupid to send them out alone. Fear gnawed at her. Please, please let him be okay. It's not fair, she thought, I can't protect everybody.  
  
Lights ahead caught her eye. Red and blue flashing lights. Police lights. The street seemed to crawl by. She pushed herself harder, but she couldn't run any faster.  
  
Suddenly she could see the police cars scattered about. Officers were walking around, shining flashlights at the ground and talking with each other. Buffy slowed to a quick walk as she tried to see what the police were doing.  
  
She heard running behind her and spun around. Angel. He stopped next to her and said, "Well?"  
  
She shrugged and looked at the police. "Let's just go up there and see if we can find anything out."  
  
He nodded and they both began walking. As they drew closer, Buffy saw a person lying on the ground. Her chest grew tight with fear. Looking closer, she saw the person was a police officer. "It's not Stephen, at least," she said.  
  
Angel looked over at her. "Who is this Stephen?"  
  
"He's a researcher. Kinda like Giles…" she trailed off. "Did you hear that?"  
  
"What?" Angel looked around. A scraping sound came from the side of a building. "There." He pointed into the darkness of an alley. Behind a dumpster, a shadow moved.  
  
Buffy pulled a stake from her sleeve and walked closer. A few feet away, she stopped and warily leaned forward to see.  
  
Stephen lay against the wall by the dumpster. His clothes were torn and he was breathing shallowly.  
  
"Stephen!" Buffy dropped the stake and went to him. Putting her hand on his throat, she felt for wounds.  
  
His eyes fluttered open. "Not there," he gasped. "Bastard bit my arm." He held up his left arm. The sleeve was torn and there were two ragged holes in his forearm.   
  
"They let you go?" Angel asked, confusion on his face.  
  
"Policeman," Stephen said. "He showed up and they took off. He shot the one biting my arm, then got hit for his trouble. Another car was coming. I ran down this way and hid. I guess I passed out." Stephen tried to stand, but got halfway up nearly fell.  
  
Buffy caught him and put his arm over her shoulder. "We need to get you to a hospital."  
  
"No hospitals," Stephen said. He shook his head. "Whoa, I'm dizzy. With that cop getting hurt, they'll be all over the place looking for a shot criminal. I don't want to have to answer any questions."  
  
"But you've lost a lot of blood," Buffy said.  
  
"If I can talk now, then I'll live. Just get me to my hotel."  
  
Buffy glanced at Angel, a question on her lips.  
  
Angel looked at Stephen then said, "He should be okay with some rest."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Would you take him? I want to make sure Willow and Xander get home okay." Angel stared at her. "We'll talk later," she added. He nodded reluctantly and led Stephen away, who looked oddly at him.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy saw Willow and Xander on the sidewalk ahead. Xander had one arm around her waist while the other held her hands. Willow's eyes were closed and she had her head on his shoulder as they walked. Buffy could see Xander talking softly, but they were too far to make out what he was saying.  
  
She waited quietly till they drew closer.  
  
"Buffy!" Xander said. "Did you…" he trailed off, searching her face.  
  
Willow opened her eyes. They were red from the tears earlier. "Is he…"  
  
"He's fine, Will. A little worse for the wear, but he'll be okay."   
  
Relief washed over Willow's face. "Thank God," she whispered.  
  
Xander looked past Buffy. "Where is he?"  
  
"Angel is taking him to his hotel. He lost some blood, so he was pretty messed up." She gave them a wry smile. "Funny thing, though. The police saved him. Imagine that."  
  
"The Sunnydale police?" Xander shook his head in amazement. "The wonders never cease." Turning to Willow he said, "There, everything is going to be fine." He squeezed her shoulder.  
  
"Thank you Buffy," Willow said. Looking up at Xander, she spoke softly. "I want to go home."  
  
"I'll come with you guys," Buffy said. "Just to be sure."  
  
Xander nodded and they turned to walk away. As the two passed Buffy, she noted that Willow had lowered her head to Xander's shoulder. His arm again circled her waist, supporting her as they headed home.  
  
Buffy stood guard over her friends all the way, discreetly behind the two as they held each other in silence.   
  
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	7. Part Six

Part Six  
  
  
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Spike pulled his coat off and tossed it on the table. Grimacing in frustration, he sat in one of the high-backed chairs and leaned back. Putting one foot up, he pulled a knife out and began picking at the edge of his boot.  
  
Damn, damn, damn, he thought. Losing your temper is stupid. It was beyond stupid, it was…common. He glared at his men filing into the factory around him. Several of them had run tonight when that…person…had killed Baranov. He watched them through slitted eyes as they passed by. To make matters worse, three others had gone hunting tonight and not returned. Victims of the Slayer, probably.  
  
Grinding his teeth, he forced himself to remain calm. Keeping control in tight situations was the difference between living and dying. I didn't kill two Slayers by acting rashly, he thought. Well, not too rashly.  
  
He dropped his foot to the floor and leaned forward. What are they up to? Clearly something big. Spike noticed Dalton standing nearby, looking nervous. "Well? If you've got something to say then say it." He stuck the knife into the tabletop. "Blokes like that Severian character don't just waltz into town for your average hocus-pocus." Pursing his lips, he wondered about Severian's claim of being Assyrian. Normally he'd laugh at any vampire that claimed to be even half that old, but his strength…  
  
"Spike…" Dalton rubbed his head and eyed him warily.  
  
"Come on, speak up then! I'm not in the mood to drag it out of you." Spike stood and kicked the chair away from behind him.  
  
Dalton flinched but spoke up. "I've never seen anything like that before…" Spike stared at him. "Though I vaguely remember reading about a vampire with such strength once."  
  
"Well?" Spike said in irritation.  
  
"It was in a book the Master had. It was a warning to vampires that grew old and full of pride. It claimed that there used to be many Old Ones, vampires who lived for thousands of years. But we were cursed and now when we grow old, our arrogance becomes our downfall. It's fascinating, the curse I mean—"  
  
Spike grimaced and cut him off. "I don't care about any curse. What the hell does it have to do with this Severian character? And what is he doing in MY town?"  
  
"The passage I read described one that has survived the curse. He supposedly had strength like that we saw tonight." Dalton paused, remembering. "The Master dismissed it as a fairy tale. He claimed never to have actually heard of any such being." Dalton took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "I always wondered, though…"  
  
"Wondered what?"  
  
Dalton quickly put his glasses back on. "Haven't you ever thought about it? About the old vampires that is? Remember what you said about all those that claim they were at the crucifixion?"  
  
Spike nodded. Claiming to be old among vampires was as common as sand on a beach. He'd once said that if they were all telling the truth then the crucifixion would have been an event like Woodstock.  
  
"How many of us have actually met a vampire that was extremely old?" Dalton looked around the room. "The Master was the oldest that I know of, but he was little more than six hundred years old."  
  
"You do have a point to all this?" Spike said.  
  
Dalton looked back at Spike nervously, but there was excitement in his eyes. "Yes. The Master never had the strength to kill as we saw tonight. Severian must be extremely old. Given our inclination towards pride and boasting, for him to admit to be a servant of another would likely be true. There was much more in the book, but I never got a chance to read it."  
  
Spike stood thinking. He'd never thought much about the lack of ancient vampires. He pulled his chair back to the table and sat down again. He had assumed they had died trying to pull off major stunts like the Master's attempt to open the Hellmouth.   
  
Like the Master, many of them had died on the end of a Slayer's stake.  
  
"Dalton, where is this book?" If this new vampire is planning on stirring up trouble, Spike thought, I want to be ready. The book might have useful information.  
  
"It was with the Master's things at the Hellmouth. I looked for it, afterward, but it was gone. I think the Slayer and her Watcher may have taken it."  
  
"We'll just have to get it, won't we?" Looking at his watch, he added, "Sun's almost up. We'll go tomorrow night." He pointed his finger around the room at the gathered vampires. "Any of you wankers run again, I'll kill you myself. Are we clear?"  
  
A soft voice whispered through the room. "Spike…?"  
  
Spike turned and smiled pleasantly. "Drusilla? What are you doing up? It's time for bed, love."   
  
Drusilla stood pale and thin, her head lolling to one side as she leaned against a pillar. She tugged at her black hair with one hand while the other hung to her side, a small doll clutched in her hand.  
  
"Why are the people talking?" Confusion on her face, she walked slowly forward. "I was afraid something had happened. Ms Edith was out of sorts." She held the doll up. Smiling, she ran her finger over a cloth blindfold that held the doll's eyes shut. "She was seeing phantoms, so I covered her eyes."  
  
Spike stood and moved to embrace her. "Did you eat anything, Dru?" He looked to another vampire, who shook her head no. "You've got to eat. You'll never get better." He kissed her forehead, then moved to take her away.  
  
Drusilla resisted him, then spoke with a low, firm voice. "The phantoms spoke, though. They said awful things." She looked up at Spike, a wild expression in her eyes. "He wants to close the door." She smiled slyly. "He thinks he can do what he wants, but they won't let him."  
  
Spike looked at her carefully. "Dru, you seeing something?" He jerked his head at Dalton to come closer.  
  
Drusilla smiled then went limp. She dropped the doll and put her hand on Spike's face. "Spike," she whispered, "the phantoms. That girl. The Slayer. She will hurt us if he gets them all. Only one left free…" She pulled Spike's head close. "Don't let her hurt us. Don't let him have them all…Don't let him…"  
  
"I won't love," Spike murmured. He kissed her forehead, then turned to Dalton. "Well? How does that fit into your theories?"  
  
Dalton's eyes were large. Drusilla was insane, but her visions were always accurate. "The book. There were a lot of prophecies in it. The Master never let me read many. It may have something, though."  
  
"It looks like we have a project, people," Spike said loudly. "Drusilla," he said softly, "it's time to go to bed." Putting his arm around her shoulder, he led her away.  
  
Ms Edith lay on the floor behind them. Dalton bent to pick the doll up, but just as his fingers were about to touch her, he hesitated. Looking up at Drusilla, his hands quivered for a moment. He stood up and left the doll where it lay.  
  
* * *  
  
Claudia stood by the door, waiting for her turn to speak with the one inside. The Old One. Kveltain. She shivered at the thought of his name. He'd changed it often, they all did, but she still always called him by the name he'd used when he found her. Made her.  
  
The others took their cue from her and Severian and called him the same, partly out of respect, but mostly fear. All but Severian. Her eyes narrowed. Severian showed no respect. No gratitude. He'd lain dying on some battlefield when Kveltain found him. At least that's what she'd always heard. Claudia closed her blue eyes and remembered her own meeting with Kveltain…  
  
He'd had found her in the ruins. Naked and bleeding. She still revolted at the memory. The Mongols had swept through eastern Poland like a plague. Her entire village was working in the fields when they came over the horizon. Her father fell before her eyes, an arrow in his chest. They looked like demons…what she thought demons might look like anyway.   
  
She knew better, now.  
  
Hours later she had lain in the dark, waiting to die. A voice spoke to her. His voice. "Do you want to die?" The flames of the cottages crackled and sputtered, but they didn't reveal the speaker's face.  
  
She tried to speak, but her throat seized and she couldn't.  
  
Kneeling down, he spoke again. "No? Would you like revenge, perhaps?"  
  
"Are you the devil?" she whispered. A part of her knew she was being tempted, but her objections were distant and faint.  
  
"No, I'm not the devil." He leaned forward, and she could see his face. A pleasant, friendly face. He smiled. "You have a choice, though."  
  
She couldn't speak, so her eyes answered instead.  
  
"I thought so." Leaning close, he whispered in her ear. "Both."  
  
Behind the door Severian's voice rose to a shout.  
  
Starting suddenly, Claudia grew angry. Severian. He should be thankful as well. He would have died on that battlefield. Why does Kveltain put up with him? The others waiting with her eyed one another nervously. One held a pair of small boxes tightly in his hands.   
  
The door opened and Severian stepped out. His face was dark with anger. He stormed past her and snatched the boxes away from the waiting vampire. He turned and went back into the room, eyeing Claudia coldly as he went by.  
  
Slamming the door behind him, Severian tossed the boxes to Kveltain. "That's eight. Shouldn't we be getting the last one? Whatever it is? Or is this sitting around crap part of your secret plan?" Severian went on with a mocking tone, "Or would it go against some PROPHECY?"  
  
Kveltain sat in a chair reading a book in his lap, drumming his fingers on the armrest. With Severian's last biting words the fingers stopped and he raised his eyes to face him.  
  
Severian held his breath for a moment, but when no reply came he went on. "You of all people. Fooling with prophecies and omens. How many centuries have you spent mocking those fools who dabbled with that rot? Now you act like some puppet getting jerked about by its Master."  
  
Kveltain flashed from his chair and seized Severian by the throat. Lifting him into the air, he pulled Severian closer so that his face was inches from his own. "Puppet? You are mistaken. No insane scribbling controls my actions." With his free hand he gestured to the book, discarded beside the empty chair. Looking into Severian's eyes, he said, "I can see the doubt. 'Just like the others,' you are thinking." He smiled, "The others were fools because they did not understand the nature of prophecy. I do. If I had so little use for it, why have I spent these long years studying so much?" He released Severian and stepped back.  
  
Severian put his hand to his throat and rubbed it. "You alone have the knowledge. Got it." He spoke with no trace of sarcasm, but Kveltain's eyes sparkled with anger. He went on in a conciliatory tone. "What then, is your bidding? Shall I teach table manners to Spike? Claudia to sing? Or perhaps take the Slayer out for a dinner and movie?"  
  
Kveltain stood unmoving for a few seconds. "Severian," he said finally, "I understand your confusion and anger, but it must be this way. You've been with me longer than any other. When I set myself to some task, you know I have always succeeded. This is the greatest task of all. I've spent nine hundred years preparing. I will be successful. Why do you struggle against me so?"  
  
Severian let his hard expression relax. "I don't understand. You've never been so secretive. The others," he waved towards the closed door, "they're too busy playing this 'Kveltain the Holy' routine to think for themselves." He grimaced, then went on. "You've never kept me in the dark before."  
  
"I'm sorry." Kveltain stooped and picked up the book. He sat down in the chair and looked up at Severian. "It has to be this way for now." He turned and lifted a large, iron knife from the desk beside him. "Just keep Spike out of the way and keep the Slayer alive." He ran his finger along the edge of the knife and added softly, "We'll need her at the end."  
  
For a moment Severian stood and looked at him. Finally he nodded and left the room.  
  
Claudia watched him leave. Someday, she thought, you will push him too far and I will be his favorite. Someday soon, perhaps.  
  
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	8. Part Seven

Part Seven  
  
  
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Willow and Xander walked quietly together towards school. There wasn't much activity this early on a Saturday morning. The sound of scattered lawnmowers and a few cars was all that prevented total silence.  
  
Both seemed on the verge of speaking repeatedly, but neither could find the words. The closer they got to school, the more uncomfortable they both became.  
  
What is wrong? Willow wondered. Xander had done little more than smile since he came by her house this morning. He wasn't quiet last night. She smiled at the memory. Okay, being attacked by vampires, running for her life and Stephen being injured and nearly killed was definitely not cool, she admitted. But when she had run crying right into Xander's arms…  
  
She looked over at him. He was walking with his head down in silence. Usually he was full of witty remarks and goofy jokes. Silence was very un-Xander-like. Sighing, she looked back down at the sidewalk. When Buffy had run to try and save Stephen, Willow had been too exhausted to follow. She would have fallen to the ground had Xander not held her up.   
Willow smiled at the memory of Xander holding her. Talking to her. She couldn't recall his words exactly. Her sobs had drowned most of them out. But she remembered Xander holding her.  
  
Then Buffy had returned with the news that Stephen was alive and she had almost started crying again in relief. Xander had spoken softly to her again. But that wasn't even the best part.   
  
After she had asked Xander to take her home, she had expected him to make a witty comment, tease her about being worried over nothing and laugh away his earlier tenderness. As he had always done before. Instead, he had put one arm around her waist and held her tight. Holding hands, she'd put her head on his shoulder and they walked in silence all the way home. Once there, Buffy had stayed on the sidewalk while Xander took her to the door. Standing just inside, she had turned to face him but could think of nothing to say. Smiling, he'd said, "I'll never let anything happen to you, Will." Leaning down to kiss the top of her head, he'd murmured, "Never."  
  
It had been so romantic. She'd lain awake in her bed for an eternity thinking about it before finally falling asleep. This morning she'd been giddy with excitement waiting for him to come pick her up.  
  
When he'd arrived, he taken one look at her and…stood terrified. Frowning, Willow glanced at Xander again. Was that it? Was he embarrassed by it all? He didn't feel the way she hoped and he was uncomfortable because of it, she told herself. But last night…  
  
She groaned audibly.  
  
Xander scratched the back of his head. Where are your funny lines, humor boy? This is Willow, your best bud, your friend for life. You can't speak? You're acting just like you're on a…  
  
Oh boy, better quash that thought right now. This is Willow we are talking about, he told himself. You don't feel that way about her.  
  
Do you? If not, then why were you so glad to see that hope on Willow's face this morning? He shrank from the thought, but it followed and demanded an answer. But he didn't feel that way about her, he protested. Occasionally he'd get a twinge of something more, but it was always a protective thing, he told himself. It always seemed to happen when Willow was hurt or in danger or…with another boy.  
  
And that, he realized, should tell you a hell of a lot. But you are too chicken to face it.  
  
She's my best bud, my friend for life. Wait, already said that. This internal conversation always went the same way. Only this time it wasn't following the scheduled program. I'll ruin everything. She's got to understand.  
  
Steeling himself, he made his decision. We can't. You've got to tell her.  
  
He looked down at her and she smiled hopefully at him. He gave a quick grin and looked away.  
  
Willow's smile faded and she looked to the ground.  
  
Well done, Xander chided himself. You're just torturing the poor girl. They were almost at the school. Tell her.  
  
Tell her what? You went over this a minute ago, idiot.  
  
At the base of the stairs in front of the school Xander could stand the silence no more. He suddenly whirled to face her and grabbed her by the arm. "Willow," he said. Nothing more would come out.  
  
Willow gazed up at Xander, her face a mixture of excitement and confusion. When he said nothing after her name, she timidly broke the silence. "Yes, Xander?"  
  
He blinked his eyes and stood very still. "Last night." He looked past her for a second, his eyes focusing on nothing. What were you going to say? "I, ah…" A breeze caught her long red hair and he watched it stir softly. The morning sun caught it and it glowed with a fiery hue.  
  
Willow could see the indecision on Xander's face. He's going to laugh it off and he's afraid of hurting my feelings, she thought. Do it first. He doesn't feel the way you do and you shouldn't put the burden on him. She put her hand on his chest and stepped toward him. Looking up she started to say, "Xander, it's okay."  
  
At her touch Xander looked back down at Willow's face. She tilted her head up and he gazed into her eyes. All of Xander's objections fled in an instant. He grabbed Willow by the waist and pulled her to him. Putting his hand to the side of her face, he brushed her hair back and started to lean down.  
  
He's going to kiss me! Shock and joy raced through her and Willow went limp in his arms.  
  
Laughter shattered the morning air.  
  
Cordelia.  
  
"Oh isn't this cute. The loser and the nerd, together at last," she cackled. Standing at the top of the stairs holding her cheerleader uniform, Cordelia's face was twisted into a smirk. She came towards them and leaned in to whisper loudly to Xander. "A word of advice, lover boy. Next time don't stand on her foot."  
  
He looked down, blanched, and jumped off Willow's foot. She stepped after him, her hand reaching out to him. He avoided it and backed up.  
  
"I…I'll see you inside," he stammered. Turning and running up the steps, he went into the school without looking back.  
  
Willow stood with her hand still out for him, watching him go, ready to burst into tears. Her whole life she had waited for Xander to kiss her and at the moment it was finally going to happen he…runs away. The shock was so great she didn't know what to feel. Anger? Sadness? Humiliation?  
  
Cordelia had turned to watch Xander leave; now she faced Willow once more, surprise and confusion on her face. "Well, I didn't expect…"  
  
"How could you?" Willow whispered, her voice cracking with rage and sorrow. A tear ran down her cheek. "Couldn't you let somebody else be happy for even a moment?"  
  
She ran up the steps past Cordelia, nearly knocking her down. Into the school in pursuit of Xander.  
  
Cordelia grunted as Willow bumped her. "Jeez, I was kidding," she said. After Willow vanished into the building she looked at the building in silence for a few seconds. "I was just kidding."  
  
* * *  
  
"I'll pick you, Xander and Willow up at 3:00. Okay? Wait, make that 2:30. We'll swing by McDonalds on the way and get you all something to eat." Joyce pulled the Jeep up in front of the high school and stopped.   
  
Buffy smiled at her as she opened her door. "Sure thing, mom."  
  
"Oh, you did remind Willow to bring a nice dress, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes I did. I didn't tell Xander about the uniform, though."  
  
Looking a little worried, Joyce said, "Don't you think you should have?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "No. No way. He hears about the uniform and he'll never show up. If I have him there," she cracked her fingers, "he'll do it." Winking at her mother, she got out of the car. She reached into the back seat and pulled a black dress out. "See you at 2:30, then." Her mother smiled and drove away.   
  
Balancing her backpack with the dress, Buffy started to go up the stairs when a taxi pulled up behind her. She watched as Stephen got out and paid the driver. As the taxi drove away, he stood blinking in the morning sun holding a gym bag. "You don't look so good," she called out.  
  
He smiled faintly. "I feel like hell." Putting his hand over his eyes, he joined her on the stairs. "I'd help you carry some of that, but I'm afraid I'd fall over if I tried. Did Willow get home safely?"  
  
"Walked her home myself. Nice job on getting her away from those vamps."   
  
"I don't think it would have reflected well on me had I let something happen to her."  
  
Buffy gave him a sagely nod. "You learn fast. Willow's a special one." She waved the dress and backpack at him. "Chivalrous intentions noted as well." She started walking towards the school. "Let's get you inside."  
  
Stephen nodded and followed her in.  
  
Upon entering the library they found Giles struggling to carry a stack of old books to the center table. He set the heavy load down just before it tipped over and spilled onto the floor. Looking up he smiled. "Good morning."  
  
Willow sat at one end of the table by the computer chewing the end of her hair and staring at Xander. Xander sat at the other end fidgeting with a pencil and actively avoiding her gaze.  
  
Spotting Buffy, Xander sat up straight. "Buffy! It's great to see you. And Stephen. Lot's of people. That's a good thing."  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. "Huh?" To Giles she said, "Good morning. Look what I found." She nodded her head at Stephen. She tossed her backpack past Giles and onto the table next to the stack of books, missing them by inches.  
  
Giles looked at the backpack for a moment then said to Stephen, "I understand you had a rough night."  
  
Stephen held his arm out. "The bite wasn't so bad, but I'm still a bit woozy from the loss of blood." He looked at the sunlight streaming in the windows. "Could we, ah…"  
  
Giles turned to look at them. "What? Oh, yes, of course." He crossed the room and began twisting the blinds partway closed. "Is that better?"  
  
Stephen nodded and sank into a chair. "Thank you. I'll be fine after a while. Right now light, noise and movement are all rather unpleasant."  
  
Buffy sat at the table across from Xander. He gave her a weak smile, then became engrossed once more in his pencil. "So guys," Buffy said, "anything interesting up?" Not knowing whether to be serious or teasing, she tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible.  
  
Xander started. "What? Interesting? No, not us." He glanced at Willow then back to Buffy. "We're just the same old boring…" He trailed off, then began to carefully read the titles in the stack of books.  
  
Stephen tapped his finger on the book. "Well, did you get a chance to look over my notes?"  
  
"Yes," Giles said excitedly. "I can see why you were so disturbed by these portrait thefts." Giles thought for a moment then selected a book from the pile. "Lord Allinson only mentioned these portraits in passing. They seem almost absent-mindedly scattered throughout his work." Opening the book he thumbed through the pages. "On the surface, that is. If you take the passages and read them separately from the other material, then they are quite detailed." Taking his glasses off, Giles gave Stephen a serious look. "I think it is obvious that the bulk of Lord Allinson's research was nothing more than a cover for his interest in these paintings. Or rather, whatever is hidden inside."  
  
"So what's inside?" Buffy asked.  
  
"A creamy smooth chocolate filling?"  
  
"Xander." Giles grimaced in frustration at the outburst.  
  
"Xander, how could you?" Willow said. She sat hunched over, hugging her arms around herself.  
  
"Yes, well…" Giles looked at Willow in confusion. "Xander, be quiet. Buffy, it could be anything. Parts of an artifact, a spell. A prophecy perhaps?" He gave Buffy a shrug. "We'll just have to get one and open it up. We can examine the portraits at the gallery tonight during the show. If one seems likely, we'll just have to purchase it." Giles returned his attention to the book in his hand.  
  
"That's fine," Buffy said, "but let's just remember to not weird out my mom."  
  
Leaning forward, Stephen read the binding of the book Giles held. "That's his last journal with the Slayer." He rubbed his temples. "I don't feel good," he muttered to himself. He sat and gave Giles a faint smile. "That's what I thought as well. That the other work was a cover, I mean. Though it took me a lot longer than one night to figure it out."  
  
While Stephen and Giles talked, Buffy watched Willow stare at Xander. Suddenly Willow spoke to him. "What was that? Interesting? What could possibly have happened that was interesting?" She stood up and spoke timidly. "I need to go back in the stacks to…" she looked around the table; "…get more books on art. So that I can study the art thing that I've been…studying." She stepped away from her chair and looked pointedly at Buffy. "Would you like to help me, Buffy?"  
  
Xander froze, panic on his face. "You should stay here. With…" he waved at the others "…you know, the people." He caught Buffy's stare. "Don't you think? We should all stay here and learn picture stuff. With Stephen. And Giles." He held up a book at random. "Knowledge doesn't come cheap, and you should never pass up the chance to learn."  
  
Some of the tremor in his voice left and he gazed softly at Willow. "I could help you. Later, I mean. How about later? Tonight? We…I…need to think."  
  
Whoa! Buffy thought. What was this? She watched as emotions played across Willow's face. Anger, sadness, and hope all at the same time. What had happened? Willow needs some girl talk, big time, she told herself. And I need the juicy gossip.  
  
Willow gave Xander a curt nod and turned to Buffy. "Would you give me a hand, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy stood and spoke to Willow while keeping her eyes on Xander. "Sure Will, I'd be glad to help you."  
  
Xander sputtered loudly.  
  
Giles looked at Xander in irritation. "Xander, would you please be quiet? What's the matter with you this morning? When you arrived you ran in here like a pre-schooler." He turned his attention to Willow. "You as well. Why were you running about and yelling at Xander?" Giles pulled his glasses off and said forcefully, "If you are going to act like foolish children please go outside." He put his glasses back on, turned back to Stephen and began discussing the book again.  
  
Buffy's mouth dropped open and she stared at Willow. Running about and yelling? Willow? Now she regretted dawdling this morning.   
  
Willow bit her lip and gave her a sad look. "Let's go." As she and Buffy went up the stairs and vanished into the stacks, Buffy glared down at Xander. You and I will be talking later, her expression said.  
  
Xander dropped his head to the table and muttered, "Somebody just kill me now."  
  
Giles held the book up to Stephen. "Have you read this recently?"  
  
Stephen shook his head no. "It's more of a diary. It predates his research so I didn't give it too much thought."  
  
Giles nodded. "Yes, but one thing did catch my eye. Rather out of the blue in one passage…" After thumbing through the book Giles put his finger on a page, "…here, he mentions that he'd like to get a copy of the Bibracte Panel."  
  
Stephen looked confused. "What? Bibracte? That was a battlefield in Gaul, right?"  
  
Giles put the book down and reached for another. "Yes. One during Caesar's campaign against the Helvetians. Not a remarkable battle in itself, but unearthed near the battlefield around 1100 AD was a marble panel, such as one that might have decorated the outside of a Roman building. It was a marker to commemorate the battle, written in Latin. On the other side, however, there was a small section of runic writing." He thumbed through another book for a moment. "The Watchers hoped that it could be used as a sort of Rosetta Stone to translate one of the older runic languages that remain a mystery. Unfortunately the runic characters match no known language, so it was effectively useless." Giles found the page he was looking for and handed the book to Stephen. "I remembered this morning. The runic panel was suddenly destroyed in the 1600s by the Watchers, and all copies of the engraving declared, well, top secret." Giles took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "Of course, no reason was given for the destruction of the panel."  
  
Stephen sat back and looked thoughtfully at Giles. "Do you have a copy?"  
  
"No, but I know somebody who does." Giles walked over to the checkout counter and pulled the phone up onto the surface. "Angel. He has the book of prophecies that the Master owned before Buffy killed him. I'll ask him to bring it here tonight."  
  
"Tonight? Why not now?"  
  
Giles looked at Stephen in confusion. "Last night he…you don't know?"  
  
Xander lifted his head up and said, "Angel's our special friend."  
  
Stephen looked at Xander in confusion then said to Giles, "Know what?"  
  
"Angel is…" Giles paused as he chose his next words carefully. "…Well, he is a vampire."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah, he's the neatest guy," Xander quipped.  
  
"He was cursed by Romani gypsies. They restored his soul, so now he lives in regret for the horrors he—"  
  
"Committed as a vampire," Stephen interrupted. A painful look washed over Stephen's face. "Angel, he is…was Angelus, right?" Giles nodded. "I can't believe I missed that." Stephen sat shaking his head. "Really poor impression I've made so far. I nearly get killed, you find a major clue less than twenty-four hours after reviewing my work, and I didn't catch on to who Angel was." He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I'm slipping."  
  
Xander looked back towards the stacks. Willow and Buffy had been gone a long time, he thought. It's about time to panic.  
  
Stephen took a deep breath and reached for the pile of computer printouts and the art book that Willow had been studying the day before. "Might as well be of some use. I'll see if I can find a connection between the paintings then. Maybe I can figure out how to spot any at the show this evening."  
  
Giles picked up the phone. "I'll call Angel, then."  
  
A little while later Willow and Buffy came out from the stacks. As they came down the stairs Buffy glared at Xander.  
  
Willow's eyes were puffy and red and she snuffled a few times. Sitting back at the computer, she didn't look up. She took the mouse and started moving it slowly.  
  
Buffy was fuming. She sat down across from Xander again and willed him to look at her. What the hell was he thinking? Almost kissing her and then running like that. When she got her hands on him…  
  
She noticed Xander didn't look over, though. His eyes were on Willow.  
  
Maybe if you laughed at her you could make this her perfect day, Xander thought. Closing his eyes he recalled the terrible pain on her face when he'd backed away from her. That was my fault. He opened his eyes again.   
  
Decide.  
  
His stomach fluttered terribly as he got up and moved down the table to sit in the chair next to Willow. She didn't look up but he could see her eyes peering sideways at him. He gingerly put his hand out toward hers. When she didn't withdraw he took it in his own and squeezed gently.  
  
Willow turned to face him. Xander leaned forward and whispered softly. "Willow, I'm sorry."   
  
She tilted her head slightly and sighed. "Xander…"  
  
At the counter Giles hung the phone up and turned around. "Angel has agreed to…what's going on here?"  
  
"What's the matter Giles?" Buffy said over her shoulder. "Haven't you ever seen two people kiss before?"  
  
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	9. Part Eight

Part Eight  
  
  
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Dalton ducked his head under a pipe and nervously looked behind him. A few feet back Claudia followed. Her eyes never left the back of his head. He could feel the anger she hid behind a calm exterior. He could feel it building.   
"Not too much further," he said. She failed to respond to his weak smile and he looked away.  
  
Damn Spike! He told that Severian guy that he would show them the Hellmouth. Now he, Dalton, was stuck not only with going in Spike's place but dealing with this...woman.  
  
She scared him far worse than Spike, worse than Severian even. She was like...Drusilla.  
  
Claudia gave him that same feeling. An air of tension that could explode at any moment. Dalton nervously glanced back again. Oh please don't do it now. Just let me show you and then let me go.  
  
"Almost there," he said. Again there was no reply, so Dalton looked back.  
  
Claudia's eyes were narrowed and her lips were tight in a thin line. She said nothing. The two vampires following her said nothing, either.  
  
Dalton faced the front once more. Oh boy. The sound of her heeled shoes echoed loudly behind him.  
  
Claudia watched Dalton stumble along in front of her. She wasn't surprised that Spike hadn't shown up. Disappointed, yes. She had planned to kill the Limey bastard. But not surprised.   
  
Spike was up to something. He just seemed the type to stir up trouble for its own sake. This Dalton idiot was more than just a sacrificial lamb sent in his owner's place. He was deliberately being slow. Stalling.  
  
In that case, she thought, we'll just have to find out what that something might be.  
  
Ahead of her Dalton turned and ducked into a large concrete tube. "Through here," he said. She could see the fear on Dalton's face build every time he looked at her. Good. It'll make finding out what I want to know just that much quicker.  
  
At the other end of the tunnel a cavern opened up. Dalton's flashlight jerked randomly about as he explained.  
  
"The earthquake sixty years ago broke open a chasm and this church..." he illuminated an altar and several pews. "...fell into it. The Master was trapped in this area around the pool. The Hellmouth is centered there."  
  
Claudia stepped past broken furniture, skeletons and other debris. Burned out candles littered the room. Some were on stands but many were stuck in crannies on the rough stone walls. Disgusting.  
  
"What kind of pathetic loser was this Master?" Claudia said. Dalton started at her sudden speech and nearly fell. "Look at this place. It's like some kind of sorry nineteenth century gothic novel." She ran her fingers through the dust accumulating on the altar.  
  
Dalton edged back away from her, in the direction of the exit. "He, well, liked that kind of stuff. There's no accounting for taste." He laughed at his own joke, then trailed off when no one else did. Backing away from Claudia, he said, "I guess I'll be seeing you then. The exit is the same way we came in."  
  
A pair of hand grabbed his arms from behind. "Don't think so." One of Claudia's helpers. The other handed a briefcase to Claudia and moved to stand behind her.  
  
"What are you doing?" Dalton said. Fear gave his voice a higher pitch. "I showed you the Hellmouth..." He struggled to break free but the hands gripped too tightly.  
  
Claudia set the briefcase on the altar and unlatched the catches. Without looking up, she spoke to Dalton in a calm, level, horrifying tone. "Severian isn't doing his job. He's been so absent-minded lately. Being the responsible member of this corporation, it always falls on my shoulders to fix the mess he leaves." She pulled a pair of gloves from the briefcase and slipped them onto her hands.  
  
Dalton twisted, but his feet were kicked out from under him. The hands holding him didn't lose their purchase, and he hung painfully with his arms behind his back.  
  
"Spike didn't show up because he is up to something. Something right now." She looked expectantly at Dalton.  
  
He flailed his feet about trying stand again. His boots scraped on the dirt and rock until they struck a broken board. Dalton groaned in relief as he stood and the pressure on his arms faded. "Wha...What did you say? Spike?"  
  
"What is he doing?" Claudia reached back into the briefcase. "Come on, Dalton." Selecting something from the interior of the briefcase, she smiled slightly without raising her head. "Tell me everything there is to know about Spike."  
  
He tried to lean back away from Claudia, but the vampire holding him didn't budge. "What's in there?" Dalton's voice was panicky.  
  
Claudia pulled a cross and a vial of water from the briefcase and looked at Dalton. She smiled sweetly.  
  
"Pain."  
  
* * *  
  
Spike lit a cigarette as his vampires burst into the Sunnydale High School library. He stood in the hall and waited for the sound of fighting. Hearing nothing, he pushed the door open and walked in.  
  
"Well? If there's nobody here, then don't stand around. Let's find the book." His face twisted in annoyance. Why am I cursed with these dimwits?  
  
Several vampires began prying on the cage door while others went into the office and began rifling it. Spike sat on the checkout counter and took a deep drag on his cigarette. Reading the poster across from him-"Smoking Sucks"-"It's a killer," he chuckled. Exhaling, he checked his watch impatiently. Something one of his men was doing caught his eye.  
  
"Don't touch that." The vampire looked up at him, his hand inches from the computer on the long central table. "Just unplug it and take it with us." Speaking more loudly, "Do you hear that, people? Nobody touch the computer but Dalton." They all paused for a moment and then returned to their efforts. "And don't damage any of the books. I don't want to have to read through your fingerprints."  
  
Stretching his legs out, Spike ran his hands down his thighs. He enjoyed the black leather pants he usually wore, but they could get tight at times. Not good in a fight. He dropped off the counter and went over to the table. This new pair needed some stretching.  
  
Books of art and newspaper clippings were strewn about. Pursing his lips, he fingered through them. What were these doing here? Better just take it all. He swept up the articles and piled them onto the books. Motioning for one his vampires to get them, he turned to the effort underway to open the cage.  
  
Spike flicked the ash from his cigarette. "Come on people, get it open."  
  
* * *  
  
Angel walked along the side of the school towards the back. The heavy book he carried had metal bindings that dug into his arm.   
  
Damn thing hurt just to carry it.  
  
As he reached the fire exit that led to the library, he paused. Buffy. She wouldn't get out of his mind. It drove him crazy how she seemed to change her mind about things. About the two of them.  
  
One night she's all but tackling him for a kiss, the next she's walking arm in arm with that...boy. Xander. Scowling, he recalled the sight of him arm in arm with Buffy in the graveyard.  
  
Buffy swore up and down there was nothing there, but every time he turned around...  
  
Jealous of that boy? Angel tightened his jaw. Yes, he admitted. There probably was nothing there, from Buffy's side anyway, but still it bothered him. Xander had feelings for her. Eventually they might be returned. He was with her all day, everyday. Over time...  
  
Angel tried to shake himself out of his funk. This is stupid, he thought. I've got more important things to worry about than some sixteen-year-old boy. His eyes went to the book in his arms. Much more important things.  
  
He pulled the door open and went up the stairs to the stacks at the rear of the library. At the first landing he pulled open the door and went in. Lost in thought about Buffy, he was halfway through the stacks before he noticed the noise.  
  
What's this? Giles said that they would all be at the gallery. Angel stopped and listened carefully to the voices ahead.  
  
"It's not here," one said. "Maybe they took it with them."  
  
"And why would they do that?" Spike said. "I supposed there's no chance they just put it in the safe behind you."  
  
Uh oh. Angel began backing up slowly.  
  
"Well then, let's just wait till they get back and ask them nicely to open it for us."  
  
A quiet thud echoed through the stacks as Angel backed into a bookcase. It creaked softly before settling back into place. Freezing at the sound, he listened for the reaction of those below.  
  
"Now," Spike went on, "since we've nothing else to do at the moment, gather up this rot and load it in the car. No sense in making two trips."  
  
Angel sighed in relief. They hadn't heard him. He turned and walked softly back towards the exit. I'll call Buffy, he thought. I wonder what Spike is after, though.  
  
He had a nagging suspicion it was in his hands. Better hide the thing.  
  
Angel left the building and quietly shut the door. There should be some pay phones around somewhere... He spotted one by the gymnasium. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out some change and started counting. I hope I've got enough to call information and the gallery, he thought. Should have learned the number to the place a long time ago.  
  
* * *  
  
Claudia stepped out of the mausoleum and pulled out a cell phone. The entrance to the tunnels that led to the Hellmouth was inside the low stone building. Both it and the tunnels blocked her phone, and she was irritated at the time it had taken to get back to the surface.  
  
Her two henchmen went past dragging the moaning Dalton. "Put him in the car," she said. Standing with the phone in her hand, she thought about whom to call first. Severian was watching the Slayer. Kveltain was... Better not disturb him yet.   
  
She should call Severian. She selected his number from the menu and was about to hit send when her finger hesitated.  
  
Claudia narrowed her eyes. Stopping Spike was necessary, but there wasn't any reason she couldn't come out ahead with this. Let Severian scramble about as Spike stirs up trouble. I'll have the solution and present it when he's floundering and Kveltain is angry. After all, Dalton had given her the perfect idea for controlling Spike. It would be a shame to not make use of it.  
  
Smiling thinly, she selected another number.  
  
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	10. Part Nine

Part Nine  
  
  
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Joyce Summers' art gallery was full of people. Sunnydale's elite crowded the twisting spaces, making small talk and trying to be seen by one another. A few were actually there for the art.   
Not many, thought Buffy, but enough to keep the gallery in business and her mother afloat. And me in such stylish clothing. She smiled as she spun deftly through the throngs. The place was dark in the middle but track lighting illuminated most of the walls. Dark shadows and bright regions competed to give the gallery a festive, nightclub type atmosphere.  
  
This dress looks good on me. Buffy admired herself in the reflection of a shiny metal sculpture. Black, sleeveless, spaghetti straps to hold it up and the hem just above her knees. She stood smiling for a moment before she remembered the real reason she was here.  
  
Those dang pictures. Pouting, she looked off in the direction of the European section of the gallery. Through the forest of people she could make out Giles and Stephen. They were by the portraits, studying them. The paintings gave her the creeps. Knowing that it was likely one or more of those things held something horrible made her skin crawl every time she went near.  
  
Buffy stood up on her toes and took in the crowd around her. All these people had no idea how close they were to a world of magic, vampires and death. She bit her lip and sighed wistfully. How fortunate they were and they didn't even know it.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother glaring at her from across the room. When she turned to face her, her mother swung her arm about as if she was stirring something.  
  
Buffy smiled apologetically and nodded. Circulate, circulate. That was her job tonight. Her normal world job, anyway. "Smile, introduce yourself and ask if you can help them with anything." Those had been her instructions. She'd heard them at least a hundred times before the show. Rolling her eyes, she steeled herself to return to the fray.  
  
* * *  
  
Across the room, Willow stood next to a tall, handsome man. Not as handsome as Xander, she thought, but still very nice. "Have you been to the gallery before?" she asked. She bit her tongue and hoped that she sounded professional.  
  
The man turned from the sculpture he was studying and smiled at her.  
  
"No, I haven't. It's very nice. I'm surprised such a small town like Sunnydale would have one of such quality," the man said.  
  
"Well, Ms Summers works very hard." Ooo, Willow thought. That wasn't very good. Not professional at all. She looked up to see the man's reaction. He smiled down at her. He sounds vaguely foreign, she thought. She fidgeted with a sheaf of pamphlets in her hand.  
  
"Have you worked here long?" he asked.  
  
"No, this is my first day. I'm really just helping out..." Oh drat, Willow thought. I let it out. Now I have to tell him I'm just a high school kid helping her friend's mom. "I'm friends with Ms Summer's daughter. She asked me to help tonight."  
  
"She's very fortunate that her daughter has such helpful friends."  
  
Xander walked by with a drink tray in his hands. Willow smiled shyly at him as he passed. Poor Xander, she thought. All done up in that waiter's outfit. He looked rather silly.  
  
The man next to her took a champagne glass from the tray. He started to offer it to Willow, then looking her over he said, "You're, ah, a little young I guess."  
  
"A little," she admitted.   
  
Xander's eyes widened at the exchange and Willow shooed him away. He left, but lurked nearby, not so subtly watching them both.  
  
"So, can I..." the man reached for Willow's hand.  
  
"What? Oh, yes! I'm sorry." She held out a pamphlet. "I'm supposed to give them out to everybody."  
  
"Don't worry about it."  
  
Xander was edging closer to try and overhear Willow's conversation when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Cordelia. Coming closer.  
  
Oh no, he thought. She can't see me like this. He scooted off as quickly as he could without spilling the drinks. He spotted a dark corner through the throngs and headed for it.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy weaved through the crowd, officially looking for somebody to talk but really just trying to look busy for her mother. She spotted Willow talking with an older man. A well dressed older man, she noted. As she drew closer she watched him shake Willow's hand and then walk away reading a pamphlet. Willow spotted her and hurried over.  
  
"Hey Buffy." Willow stood clutching a stack of pamphlets in her hands. "I'm having so much fun" Willow waved the pamphlets. "People come and ask me questions about the art and I get to explain, just like a real job and stuff."  
  
Buffy folded her arms and tapped her foot. "And there wouldn't be any other reason that you're having so much fun?" She tilted her head slightly at Xander, who was standing across the room. "A reason that might have something to do with a childhood fantasy coming to life this morning?"  
  
Willow blushed and stole a glance at Xander. He was hiding in a corner of the room holding a tray with champagne glasses on it. "Maybe," she said shyly.  
  
"Maybe?" Buffy said. She reached out and grabbed Willow's hands, knocking a few of the pamphlets to the floor. "This is the big one, Will. All you can say is maybe?" Buffy smiled slyly and leaned closer. "Oh course you realize that from now on you'll have to tell me every little detail. Every kiss, every-"  
  
"No, no, no" Willow said. Her eyes were big and she drew back. "I can't talk details."  
  
Buffy stamped her foot. "Yes. You have to. You've been dragging Angel details from me for months. It's time to share. Friends share things. I want you to share Xander smoochies."  
  
Willow looked at Xander then back to Buffy. Clutching the pamphlets to her chest she shook her head from side to side.  
  
"You're not getting out of this," Buffy said. "I think we should start with exactly what it was you were helping Xander with in the storeroom earlier." Denial crossed Willow's face. "Don't think I didn't notice." Giving her a serious look she took hold of Willow's arm at the elbow and pulled her toward a less crowded part of the gallery. "Now spill the beans girl."  
  
Willow let out a squeak as Buffy dragged her away.  
  
* * *  
  
Severian watched Buffy and Willow from a distance. The red head was rather cute. Maybe when this was all over...  
  
Naw. She's sweet. You won't touch her and you know it. He looked down at the pamphlet Willow had given him. Five hundred years ago you'd have dragged that child screaming into the night and...  
  
His face twitched. Odd how that sort of thing just doesn't appeal anymore. Killing didn't either.  
  
Enough of this, he told himself angrily. You have work to do. He sipped his champagne and suppressed his mental wandering. Leaning against a wall he forced himself to settle down and keep an eye on the Slayer.  
  
* * *  
  
Xander stood on his tiptoes and watched Buffy and Willow slide off through the crowd out of sight. What a day, he thought. He was still in a daze over how quickly things with Willow had played out. He'd gone from trying to tell her "I like you as a friend" this morning to a darkened storeroom this afternoon.  
  
He made a show of inspecting the wallpaper as his face turned red. Thinking about Willow like that was strange. A flash of color caught his eye. Through a parting of the crowd he saw her for a moment. She twirled in a circle, her long dark blue dress spinning up and her long hair trailing out behind her. She was laughing at something Buffy was telling her and had the brightest smile on her face...  
  
Okay, he allowed, thinking like that was nice. Strange, but nice.  
  
The uniform he had on was a different matter. Black pants, a bow tie, cumberbun and a ruffled white shirt. He'd taken one look at it when they'd arrived and turned to flee. He'd actually made two full steps before Buffy had put a death grip on the back of his neck.  
  
He'd been rudely shoved into a closet to change while she and Willow stood guard outside. He smiled to himself. Miss Superhero thought she could treat him like that did she? Well, he would bide his time. When the right moment came, Xander Harris would have his revenge. Oh yes. At school, in front of a lot of people.  
  
Now what should it be, he mused. Crazy string. Naw, too junior highish. Maybe a-  
  
"Well, look at this everybody. A pizza delivery boy hits the big time."  
  
Cordelia. With a gaggle of Cordelia-wanna-be's.  
  
Xander moaned internally. Would he never be free of this infernal girl? Suddenly anger sparked within him. It was her fault that he'd run off and hurt Willow's feelings so terribly this morning. Well, it was his fault technically. But it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't shown up.  
  
He stepped forward, ready to unleash a vile retort when a hand caught his arm and pulled him to the side.  
  
"Xander, why are you standing here? You need to carry the drinks around the room." Joyce Summers escorted Xander away.  
  
He glanced back at Cordelia as he moved off. She stood with her arms folded, a smirk on her face.  
  
Despair overtook him and he turned away. He'd just been saved by Buffy's mother! He would never hear the end of it.  
  
Joyce turned to speak to Xander but before she could her cellular phone rang. "This is Joyce Summers," she answered.  
  
"Ah...hello. I'm trying to reach Buffy Summers. This is Angel."  
  
Joyce's eyes widened. That older boy Buffy had brought home one evening. What did he want? "Angel, she's rather busy right now. Can I have her call you later?"  
  
By the school gymnasium, Angel pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it. Think fast, he told himself.  
  
"Actually Ms Summers, I was trying to reach Rupert Giles. It's somewhat of an emergency and I was hoping Buffy might know where he is."  
  
"Oh dear," Joyce said, "I hope it's nothing too serious. You're in luck, though. Rupert Giles is here. I'll put him on the phone." She took the tray from Xander and handed him the phone. "Xander, would you take this to over to Mr. Giles? I believe he was in the European section a few minutes ago."  
  
Xander eyed the tray now in her hands. Free at last! "Oh, one phone delivery coming right up."  
  
Gotta milk this thing for some time, Xander thought. He strolled slowly though the crowd for a bit. When he was away from Joyce he put the phone to his ear.  
  
"So, deadboy. Is there nothing on TV?"  
  
"Xander?!" Angel gripped the phone tightly. "Listen, I'm not kidding around here. Get Giles or Buffy on the phone now."  
  
"Oh come on. You can't talk to me anymore? We used to be such good buds."  
  
Angel closed his eyes for a moment. "Xander," he said forcefully, "Spike is in the library stealing everything in sight. Would you care to come down and give me a hand?"  
  
Uh oh, Xander thought. "I'll, ah, get Giles now." He began pushing through the crowd quickly.  
  
* * *  
  
Giles stood before five panel portraits perplexed. He took his glasses off and leaned closely to one. "I'm afraid it's eluding me." He put his glasses back on and turned to Stephen. "Perhaps it's not here." The look on Giles' face said he didn't believe his own words. He felt an odd, creepy feeling when he was near them.  
  
Stephen stood with one hand on his chin, studying the five. "It's here," he murmured. "Of course, what I should do is just buy them all and we'll tear them open." He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "Do you know what the asking price is?" He sat down on the bench behind them and set the notebook down next to him.  
  
Giles laughed. "Yes. Buy all five. Why didn't I think of that?" He looked over to see Stephen thumbing through the notebook, not laughing. "I...Are you serious?" Giles said.  
  
Stephen found what he was looking for and put his finger on the page. "What was that? Oh, the paintings. Yes, I'm serious." He pulled a cell phone from his jacket and dialed the number his finger marked. "Is there a price listed?"  
  
Giles looked over the painting and read the index card fixed to the wall below it. He squinted as he searched the small text for the price.  
  
"It's...well, it's $2,000 dollars." He leaned over at a card under another painting. "This one as well. They all appear to be."  
  
Stephen nodded, then spoke into the phone. "This is Stephen. I need to make a purchase. It'll probably be American Express, but if they don't take it here I'll need about ten thousand plus California sales tax free on one of the other cards."  
  
Must be nice, Giles thought. He heard his name called out behind him and looked back.  
  
"Giles!" Xander was pushing though the crowd, holding out of a phone. "We've got trouble," he said when he arrived. He thrust the phone into Giles' hand. "Angel says that Spike's in the library."  
  
Giles pushed Xander back toward the crowd. "Go get Buffy." Giles turned away to speak into the phone, but Stephen put his hand on his arm.  
  
"What did he just say?"  
  
Giles gave Stephen a pained look. "Spike, the local vampire king, is apparently in the library." He put the phone to his ear. "Hello, this is Rupert Giles."  
  
Willow and Buffy were standing in a dimly lit corner behind a statue giggling when Xander found them. He broke free of the crowd. Neither saw him till he was a few feet away.  
  
"Xander!" Willow shouted. She jumped to the side and put the statue between herself and Xander. She peeked out from behind it, her face turning red.  
  
Buffy put her hands on her hips and looked archly at him. "Well, look who it is-"  
  
Xander cut her off. "Bat signal on here. Spike's in the library."  
  
The humor left Buffy's face. "Where's Giles?"  
  
"By the paintings. He's on the phone with Angel right now."  
  
The three teenagers found Giles just as he hung up the phone. He turned to them with a grave expression. "We have a serious problem. Angel has just informed me that Spike is in the library stealing the research materials. Right now they are waiting for us to return."  
  
"Waiting for us?" Buffy said. "Spike wants me to kick his ass?"  
  
Giles shook his head. "No, apparently he is looking for something and can't find it. It may be the very book that Angel was bringing over."  
  
"Where is Angel now?" Buffy said anxiously.  
  
"Hiding outside." He took Buffy by the arm. "We need to get to the library as soon as possible. He mustn't be allowed to take those books."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Let's go then." She turned to Xander. "Stay here. Cover for me with my mom."  
  
"No way," Xander said. "I'm coming with you."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "Xander-"  
  
"It may be a good idea." Giles interrupted. Buffy tilted her head at him in shock. "If Spike has brought a large number of..." he looked around nervously at the gallery crowd and went on more quietly "...his friends, then we may need all the help we can get."  
  
"Thanks G-man," Xander said. He gave Buffy a smug expression.  
  
"Willow, stay with Stephen. We have to keep the portraits out of the wrong hands," Giles said. "And try to keep Buffy's mother at bay." Looking to Xander and Buffy he said, "We should be going then."  
  
As the three turned to leave, Willow reached out and grabbed Xander's hand. He turned back to face her and she leaned in close to him. "Be careful," she whispered.  
  
He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Hey, I'm Mr. Careful."  
  
"No you're not."  
  
Xander pursed his lips. He wasn't. "Well I will be. Careful, I mean." He squeezed her hand again. Before she could speak he was gone.  
  
Willow wrapped her arms around herself and stood alone in the crowd. When she finally turned to look for Stephen he was right behind her.  
  
"They've gone to the library then?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I guess that leaves just you and me to get these paintings."  
  
"I guess," Willow said sadly.  
  
"I'm sure everything will work out." He took her arm and led her towards the paintings. "I like your dress. You look very nice."  
  
She smiled at up him. "Thank you." Suddenly in horror she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh my God."  
  
"What?" Stephen said, concern in his voice.  
  
"I never thanked you for saving me from those..." she looked around "...uh, those guys."   
  
Stephen looked confused for a moment. "Oh yes. That. It was no trouble." He thrust his chin toward the portraits ahead of them. "Let's get these, shall we?"  
  
* * *  
  
Severian watched the sudden excitement of the Slayer and her companions with interest. What could be going on, he wondered? He edged his way closer to them through the crowd. Standing a few feet behind them, he listened as they discussed Spike's appearance at the school library. Stealing books?  
  
Severian grimaced suddenly. Spike was supposed to be showing the Hellmouth to Claudia. Knowing her, he should have been dead seconds afterward. Instead he was in the library, stealing the Watcher's books.  
  
This was bad. Either Spike had killed Claudia, something he doubted very much, or something else had gone wrong. He pulled his phone to make sure it was turned on. If something out of the ordinary had occurred, he should have been called. Unless...  
  
Damn that woman! Claudia was deliberately keeping him in the dark.  
  
Scowling, he pushed his way through the crowd and outside. Not only was the Slayer he was supposed to keep an eye on headed toward a dangerous fight, it looked like Claudia was making another attempt to move up in the pecking order.   
  
With impeccable timing and probably a bitch of a plan.  
  
Should have seen that coming, he thought. It's been a hundred years since she removed the vampire above her. You could set a clock by her. Every hundred years she "earned" a promotion. What is the matter with me? Have I gone blind and stupid?   
  
Severian stomped through the parking lot and went to the back of his car. Opening the trunk, he lifted out a long heavy bag. Enough playing around, he thought. I may be going senile but I can still remind Claudia-and Spike-of what it means to mess with an Assyrian.  
  
He unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of stakes. Then, his face grinning in the darkness, he took out a dark black assault rifle and cradled it in his arms.  
  
Oh yes, he thought. We Assyrians took that good-natured fun called war and turned it into something nasty.   
  
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	11. Part Ten

Part Ten  
  
  
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The silver Citroen sputtered down the road at nearly fifty miles per hour. Black smoke poured from the exhaust and occasionally the car seemed to hiccup. Despite the best efforts of the driver, it refused to go any faster.  
  
"Giles, why do you still have this piece of junk?" Buffy sat in the front passenger seat with her arms folded, glaring at him. Shaking her head in frustration, she twisted to face Xander in the back. "Who the hell buys a French car?"  
  
"I'll bet Giles is one of those guys who takes his car in for repairs and when the mechanic says, 'When was the last time you put oil in this thing?' he says, 'Oil? My car runs on gas.' " Xander shook his head in mock disgust. "Look's like there are a few books you missed. Like 'Cars For Dummies.' "  
  
"There's nothing I can do about it now, so would the two of you please be quiet," Giles said through his teeth. Stealing a glance at Xander, he added, "And I do know to put oil in my car."  
  
"So...have you?" Xander said.  
  
Giles muttered something under his breath.  
  
"What was that?" Buffy leaned across the front seat so that her face was inches from Giles. "Once more for the folks at home."  
  
"I said that I don't remember the last time I had the car serviced." Giles ignored sounds of disgust from the two teenagers.  
  
"Well," Xander said, "wake me when we get there." He sat back and closed his eyes.  
  
Buffy pawed through her purse for a moment. "I thought I brought a stake," she said. Then she remembered. Oh crap, it's on the dresser. "Giles, do you have any?"  
  
"I have a bag in the trunk."  
  
"Good." Relief washed over her face. Suddenly an impish smile formed on her lips, and she coyly leaned over the back of her seat. "Xander, earlier this afternoon I noticed that you and Willow disappeared for a little while."  
  
Xander's eyes opened. He sat frozen against the back, a wary look on his face.  
  
"Anyway, I asked Willow what happened and she said a most curious thing." Buffy raised her eyebrows and put an air of shocked surprise. "In fact, she told me that you--"  
  
"My hand slipped, I swear!" Xander shouted.  
  
"I knew Willow was holding out on me!" Buffy eyes flashed in triumph. She put her hands up and wiggled back and forth in her seat. "Behold my victory dance. Now Xander, fess up. Your hand. Willow."  
  
Giles turned angrily to Buffy and said, "We are about to face a very dangerous situation and you need to focus. Not distract yourself discussing tawdry teenage groping."  
  
"Yeah, Buffy. Concentrate. You should listen to Giles more often." He turned to Giles. "Tawdry?"  
  
Buffy turned to face the front again. Frowning, she said. "But I like discussing groping. I can slay and discuss at the same time."  
  
"Listen," Giles said forcefully, "I am very serious. Spike is already in the library and has likely prepared an ambush. We'll rendezvous with Angel by the gymnasium and then decide what to do from there. Now would you both please be quiet?"  
  
Buffy crossed her arms and leaned against the car door, pouting. After a few minutes Giles pulled over to the side of the street and the car sputtered to a stop.  
  
"School's still a few blocks away," Xander said.  
  
"Spike will have lookouts. We'll need to move quietly." Giles got out and went to the trunk. From inside he took a large duffel bag. Setting it on the ground, he knelt down and began rummaging through it. He handed a cross and stake to Xander, then looked up at Buffy. "I'm afraid I don't have the crossbow." He pulled a pair of stakes out and handed them up to her.  
  
Waving off his apology she said, "Inside the school stakes are the way to go." She touched her finger to end of one. "Not much room, so it'll be a brawl."  
  
Giles stood and lifted the duffel bag. He put his arm through the shoulder strap and adjusted to the weight. Gripping a stake in one hand, he said, "Let's try to get as close to the gym as possible without being seen."  
  
The three moved between a pair of homes and crossed the next street over. A dog barked in the distance and they froze for a moment. The barking ceased and after a few seconds they hurried along the side of a darkened house and into the backyard of another. With Sunnydale High School just across the street, they crouched in the dark shadow a tree and searched the school grounds with their eyes.  
  
"I don't see anything," Buffy whispered. "The gym's right over there, though. We could just run across."  
  
Giles considered Buffy's suggestion for a moment. He swept the school grounds once more then shrugged. "The direct approach sometimes is best."  
  
They crept to the edge of the street along a line of bushes. After one last look the three ran quickly across and to the corner of the school building. Giles came in last, breathing heavily as he struggled with the weight of the bag on his shoulder. "Now," he wheezed, "to the gym."  
  
Inching along the side of the school, each darkened window above their heads seemed a threat and every bush concealed a potential danger. The further they went, the uneasier Buffy became. Though she knew Xander and Giles had faced danger many times, having them with her also put her more and more on edge. She knew they would be helpful in a fight, yet at the same time she knew her own effectiveness was reduced by the need to keep watch over them.  
  
Despite her worry, it also felt good to not be alone.  
  
As they neared the side entrance to the building, Buffy stopped. She could feel the hair rising on the back of her neck. She held her hand up behind her. Giles and Xander froze in the darkness. Creeping forward, Buffy listened. Something was up ahead.  
  
She was a few feet from a tree when a breeze kicked up and rustled the leaves. She paused and waited.  
  
I should just walk in and kick butt, she thought. But this is a trap, after all. Despite Giles' comment about being direct a few minutes before, most of the time it wasn't a good idea. Like tonight. She couldn't shake the feeling that something very bad was coming.  
  
The stairs leading to the entrance on this side of the school were a few feet ahead. Just as Buffy started moving again a figure leaned out from the darkened recess of the door. Looking to either side, it's head suddenly swiveled to stare directly at her. Buffy tensed and prepared to meet its attack.  
  
It looked away.  
  
Realizing she wasn't breathing, Buffy exhaled softly and started to creep forward again. The figure moved a few steps down into the light. A vampire. His horrid features were illuminated by the streetlights in the distance. He swung his head about, searching the school grounds, then turned to head back up into the darkness. His back was to her.  
  
Buffy crossed the intervening distance in a flash, covering the last few feet flying through the air. She slammed into the vampire's back, and they both thudded against the concrete steps. The vampire tried to twist out from under her but she pinned his shoulder down with one arm while the other raised her stake.   
  
She slammed it home and the vampire burst into ashes beneath her. As it vanished, she dropped a few inches onto the steps. Xander and Giles rushed up behind her.  
  
"Well done." Giles peered about them. "He gave no warning."  
  
"By the gym," Xander whispered.  
  
A dark figure moved from behind the gymnasium and began running across the school grounds toward them. As he passed under a streetlight his face was illuminated briefly. Angel. He held an enormous book in his arms and it was obviously awkward to carry. As he neared Buffy jumped up and rushed to him. "Angel," she said. She grabbed his arm and looked up at his face. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. They don't know I'm here." To Giles he added, "I got in through the stacks. They still don't seem to realize there's an exit back there."  
  
Giles nodded. "Yes. That's how Xander got out the last time Spike was here."  
  
Buffy leaned to peer down the dark hall of the entrance behind them. "So we go in through the back way?" That door was further down the side of the school.  
  
Angel handed the heavy book to Xander. "I think he's after this. We need to keep it away from him."  
  
Xander grunted at the weight. Feeling the cover beneath his fingers, he said, "What the hell is this thing made of?"  
  
"You don't want to know," Angel said. He looked Xander up and down. "Nice outfit."   
  
Xander scowled back at him. He was about to reply when Giles grabbed his arm. "Xander, take the book and hide. You absolutely must not let the vampires get it. Take it home and wait until we call you."  
  
"Home?" Xander protested. "I want to help-"  
  
Buffy cut him off. "Xander, the book is what they want. Whatever Spike is up to, he needs the book." She saw the argument forming on his face and she put her hands on his arms. "Go. That's the best thing you can do to help me right now." The safest for you as well, she mentally added.  
  
Xander nodded silently. As he turned to leave, he looked back over his shoulder to tell Buffy to be careful, but she was already leading Angel and Giles further down the side of the school. He hefted the book and began walking away.  
  
At least Willow's safe, he thought.  
  
* * *  
  
"Are you sure Buffy said she'd call?" Joyce Summers stood tying tied the last of several strings around a large package. "I wish she'd told me she that was leaving."  
  
Willow stood behind her biting her lip nervously. "She was, ah, worried is all. Giles was in a hurry and she didn't want to be left behind." Willow tugged at her hair and looked at Buffy's mother hopefully.  
  
Joyce turned around and put her hands on her hips. "She should have told me. Xander as well. He did go with them, didn't he? When I couldn't find him, I just assumed that he did!"  
  
"Uh, Xander and Angel are good friends. I'm sure he did."  
  
"Well, at least you stayed to help." Joyce pulled the package to the edge of her desk. "I suppose I should be somewhat grateful that she's with a teacher." Willow nodded. "And Mr. Giles did bring Mr. Allinson." Joyce tapped her fingers on the package. "All five. Tonight went well, with this it was fantastic." Willow helped Joyce picked up the heavy package and the carried it out of the office.  
  
Stephen was talking on the phone as they struggled through the door. Upon seeing them, he hung up and hurried over. "Let me help you there." He took the package from them and set it down. "Well, Ms Summers, it's been a pleasure."  
  
Willow wandered outside as Stephen and Joyce talked. Sitting down on the curb in front of the gallery, she stared off in the direction of Sunnydale High School. She hugged her knees up into her chest and thought of Xander.  
  
He's out there someplace. We've been in danger so much I think he forgets what could happen. It would be awful if the day we finally are together something happened to him. Please, please keep him safe Buffy.  
  
A hand touched her shoulder and she snapped out of her thoughts. Stephen stood next to her, cradling the package in one arm. "I called a taxi," he said. "We'll take this to my hotel then we'll go to the school."  
  
Willow nodded absently to him, then turned her eyes once more toward the darkness.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy crept through the stacks. The lights were off and she had to feel her way along the shelves in almost total darkness. Behind her Angel and Giles followed carefully. As she reached the door, a whiff of smoke tickled her nose.  
  
A cigarette.  
  
She gripped her stake tightly and peered through the opening. The streetlights outside only partially lit the main floor of the library, but it was enough to see several dark shapes standing around below. One sitting on the checkout counter had a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. As her eyes became more used to the darkness, Buffy began to make out his features. Spike.  
  
Spike finished his cigarette and flicked the butt to the floor. Nearly midnight, he thought. They may not show up tonight. Damn. Well, the books loaded in the car may be of some use.  
  
The sound of movement above and in front him caught his ear and he looked up in time to see Buffy leap over the balcony and down onto the table. Before Spike or anybody could move, she staked two of his men in quick succession.  
  
Spike snarled and leapt from the counter toward her. Just as he reached her she jumped from the table over his head and landed behind him. Buffy struck quickly with her stake but Spike twisted frantically at the last moment. The stake struck just under his right shoulder blade and imbedded deep. Screaming in pain, Spike reeled away, the stake still inside him.  
  
The four vampires remaining in the room converged on Buffy and she quickly drew her other stake. Angel jumped from the balcony onto two of them. Tumbling to the floor, the three became entangled with one another. Giles hurried down the stairs and ran to Angel, a stake at the ready.  
  
The other two vampires lunged at Buffy. She evaded the first but the second caught her in the throat with a forearm and knocked her to the floor. He dove on top of her and his fangs reached for her neck. While using one arm to block his attack and she plunged the stake in her other hand into the vampire's lower back then pulled it free. He roared in pain and rolled off. She slammed her stake into its heart from behind and as she jerked it free the vampire exploded into ashes.  
  
Spike stumbled out of the library and into the hall. His face twisted in agony, he shouted, "GET IN HERE PEOPLE!" The pain in his back was excruciating and he leaned forward against the wall. How the hell did she get on that balcony? It didn't matter now. Time to get out of here.  
  
Twisting her legs, Buffy sprung from her back to her feet. She crouched at the ready as the only standing vampire in the room circled her warily. Behind her, Giles staked one of the two battling with Angel. She smiled sweetly to one in front of her. "Come on, you can take me. Can't you?"  
  
Fear flickered across the vampire's face. It snarled something unintelligible at her, then turned and ran.  
  
"Thought so," Buffy said. As she spun around to help Angel, the vampire he grappled with exploded into ash. She rushed over to help him to his feet and as she did she saw a large gash on the side of head, above the ear. Blood flowed thickly from the wound, matting his hair.  
  
"You're hurt." Buffy put her hand to his head to try and stop the bleeding, but he pulled back.  
  
"I'll be fine." He looked over at the battered cage. Giles was standing inside, staring at the empty shelves. "What did they take?"  
  
"It looks like everything. They didn't get the safe open, though." He slapped the heavy steel door. "Thank heavens for small miracles." Giles began working the combination on the safe. "I'll get the crossbow." To Buffy he said, "We need to get those books back."   
  
Buffy nodded and started for the doors. "I don't think Spike could have gone too far."  
  
* * *  
  
Xander crouched in the shadows of a rose bush across the street. Damn, damn, damn. I should have left, but I can't, he thought. I have to know what's going on. He looked down at the heavy book beside him. I really should take this home.  
  
The faint sound of what seemed like shouting tickled Xander's ears. His eyes widened when a dark figure burst from hiding near the front entrance and ran inside.   
  
Another vampire Buffy had to face. He picked up the book and stood. What should I do? I have to help her. Xander crossed the street quickly and started up the steps toward the front door of the school. As he reached them, he looked down at the book in his arms.  
  
The vamps can't get this. He stood, torn between his desire to rush in and help and the responsibility he had to keep the book safe. Cursing, he turned to head back down the steps away from the school.  
  
On the street in front of him a car pulled up and stopped at the curb. With a terrible feeling of dread, Xander slowed, then stood still, squeezing the heavy book against his chest.  
  
The car's engine shut off and Xander watched as a man in a suit got out of the car, then reached back in for something. When he turned back around, he held a large, black assault rifle in one hand.  
  
He started walking toward the school. Toward Xander.  
  
"Oh shit," Xander breathed. He spun and frantically tore open the doors. Darting inside, he began to run down the hall toward the library. He almost slipped as he turned a corner at an intersection. As he scrambled for traction on the polished tile floor he saw the man enter the school out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Regaining his footing, Xander sped down the hall, looking back over his shoulder. "Buffy!" he shouted.  
  
* * *  
  
Spike forced himself to move faster. The wound in his back was more painful than anything he'd felt in decades. One of his minions supported him as he walked, the other three were behind him, watching for any pursuit by the Slayer. This had not gone well, Spike thought.  
  
"Spike, how ya feeling?"  
  
Spike twisted his head painfully to look behind him. Buffy stood down the hall, her watcher and that damn traitor Angel behind her. She tapped a long wooden stake against the palm of her hand and began walking towards him.  
  
Spike, grimacing with pain, said, "Look pet, I'd love to play, what with you all prettied up in your dress and all, but I think I'll pass." His three men began backing up slowly, staying between Buffy and Spike.  
  
"Buffy!" echoed through the halls. Buffy started at the voice. Xander?!  
  
Xander flew around a corner, looking behind him. Running full speed, he narrowly missed Spike then crashed directly into one of Spike's men. Both sprawled to the floor. The heavy book slid a few feet before stopping at the feet of another vampire.  
  
"Well now, what's this," Spike said. One of his vampires grabbed Xander and jerked him up off the floor. Another picked up the book. Buffy ran a few steps closer, then stopped.  
  
"I've had a lovely time, but I think I'll be leaving now." Spike jerked his head, and the vampires started moving down the hall again, towards the front of school. One held Xander by the throat and pulled him along.  
  
"Buffy," Giles said, "you can't let them leave with Xander." He trailed at the rear, loading the crossbow as he came down the hall.  
  
They'll kill him, Buffy thought. I have to attack now or he dies no matter what. I have to save him. Forcing herself to wait, she steeled herself to charge. Just as Spike's group turns the corner, that's when I'll go.  
  
She followed, ten feet from the trailing vampire, who walked backwards and eyed her warily. The group was almost to the intersection. Xander's eyes were full of fear, and he pleaded silently for help. She gripped her stake so tightly her knuckles turned white. I've got to do this right.  
  
Just as Spike turned the corner Buffy moved. The vampire in front of her snarled and lunged to meet her. A split second before they collided, Buffy dove to the floor and slid past him. She kicked her foot up as she went by, tripping the vamp and sending him stumbling to the floor.  
  
Angel ran toward the fallen vamp, a stake at the ready.  
  
The vampire holding Xander grabbed his head. Realizing that he was about to snap Xander's neck, Buffy sprung up from her slide and kicked wildly at him. Her fear and haste made her aim poor, and she barely grazed the vampire. Her foot instead caught Xander fully in the chest and knocked him free of his grasp. She felt the cracking of his ribs and she cried out as her friend flew back. He slid into the intersection. Buffy dodged a blow from the vampire, spun and planted her stake in his chest. He burst into ash as she pulled it free. Her eyes went to Xander.  
  
The vampire holding the book jumped back away from her and pressed his back against the lockers on one wall. A crossbow bolt from Giles buried itself into his thigh with a sickening thud. He roared in pain, but didn't drop the book.  
  
Behind Buffy, Angel killed the fallen vampire with a stake to the chest.  
  
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM  
  
Gunfire echoed through the halls, horribly loud.  
  
Spike and a vampire fell back into Buffy's view. They both writhed on the ground, screaming in agony. Spike, hit only once, crawled out of the intersection, into the hall across from Buffy. The other vamp lay shrieking on the floor with four bullet wounds to the chest. Smoke hissed from the jagged holes. Beside him Xander moaned horribly, clutching his broken ribs.  
  
BOOM-BOOM  
  
More shots. One struck the screaming vampire in the leg, and his shrieks increased in volume. The other ricocheted off the floor, an inch from Xander's face.  
  
Buffy's heart froze in fear. She had to get Xander out of there. She jumped into the open and grabbed Xander by the feet. As she pulled him back into the hall, out of the corner of her eye she saw a man walking down the hall with an assault rifle in his hands. As she watched, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a long stake. "SPIKE!" he roared.  
  
"Buffy, look out!" Angel shouted.  
  
The vampire holding the book pushed away from the wall and kicked Buffy across the intersection. She slammed headfirst into the corner of two walls. A searing pain shot through her head and everything went dark. She passed out and lay still.  
  
Spike stood, agony wracking his body. I may die, he thought, but I'll kill this damn Slayer first. He grabbed her and jerked her up. Through a haze of pain he twisted her head to the side and prepared to bite. Severian stepped into the middle of the intersection and stood over the writhing vampire on the floor. He swung the gun toward Spike and held it steady.   
  
Spike snarled and held Buffy's unconscious body in front of him. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the sledgehammer blows he knew must come.  
  
None came.  
  
Spike opened his eyes carefully. Severian stood, his face a mask of rage. The gun pointed toward him still. As he watched, Severian's eyes flickered to Buffy then back to him. He didn't fire.  
  
Understanding dawned and Spike smiled. He needs her alive, he thought. Whatever he is up to, he needs the Slayer alive. He started to back up slowly, holding Buffy carefully up in front of him. Severian started to follow, but Spike twisted Buffy's neck hard and he stopped.   
  
"Buffy!" Angel shouted. He started to run towards Spike when Severian swung the rifle around and fired three rounds into Angel's stomach. He flew back and fell to the floor, blood spurting and a searing pain ripping through his torso. Holy water, he realized. There's holy water in the bullets.  
  
Giles raised the reloaded crossbow and Severian swung the rifle to aim at him. Giles dove to the side as the gun blasted three more rounds down the hall over his head. Lying still on the floor, Giles tensed in fear and waited for the gun to fire again.  
  
Severian pointed the gun back at Spike.  
  
Spike continued to drag Buffy down the hall. He came to a corner and hurried around it. Once out of sight, he threw her over his shoulder, shuddered at the pain, and ran.  
  
He needs her alive, Spike thought. For now, I'll keep her that way.  
  
In the intersection, Severian watched Spike dragged Buffy away. A terrible, empty feeling came over him. I've failed, he thought. I was supposed to protect the Slayer and now that punk has her. Was Claudia in league with Spike? Was this her plan all along?  
  
Severian closed his eyes and stood still. Despair. That's what I'm feeling. Despair. How long since I've felt that emotion?   
  
He gritted his teeth and turned to the vampire holding the book. "Give it to me."  
  
The vampire held the book out gingerly. Severian took the book from him with one hand, raised the gun and fired a long burst into his chest. He then pointed the gun down at Xander and his hand tightened on the trigger. He looks familiar, he thought. The clothes, he realized. He was the boy at the gallery. That child with the red hair, the way she looked at this one...  
  
Severian stood pointing the gun at Xander, then turned and walked away.  
  
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	12. Part Eleven

Part Eleven  
  
  
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Spike was in agony. The stake in his back sent bolts of pain through him with every bump in the road. He made one last turn and pulled the car into the fenced parking lot outside the factory. As the car rolled to a stop, he looked over at the seat next to him.  
  
Buffy lay unconscious, on the floor in front of the car seat. Her feet were up on the seat and she was twisted uncomfortably to one side. She'd lain still since Spike had unceremoniously dumped her there like a bag of dirt. With anyone else, Spike might have been amused at the sight. With this girl, all he felt was rage.  
  
He raised his hand to hit her, but suddenly the feeling of something very wrong struck him. His head snapped up and his eyes centered on the factory door a few feet from the car. It was hanging open. With a start, he realized is that it was also hanging by just one hinge.  
  
Spike threw the car door open and got out. Ignoring the shooting pain in his back, he hurried to the wrecked door. He reached the entrance and stopped in shock.  
  
The interior of the factory was a wreck. Debris littered the floor; the long table in the center was knocked over and its high back chairs strewn about. Spike could make out several areas covered with a fine coating of ash. The remains of destroyed vampires.  
  
Drusilla. He stumbled in, fear twisting his stomach. "Dru," he called. He reached the upturned table and leaned against one of the legs. "Drusilla!"  
  
The sound of something scraping on the floor came from behind a pile of damaged boxes. Spike staggered over and began knocking the boxes away. Dalton lay on his back, moaning softly. Burns and cuts covered his hands, face and neck. Spike leaned down and grabbed Dalton by the shirt. He jerked him to his feet and held him inches from his face.  
  
"Dalton! Drusilla, where is she?"  
  
Dalton's eyes fluttered open. "She...They took her."  
  
"Who took her?" Spike tensed a ball in the pit of his stomach. He feared he was about to hear what he already suspected.  
  
"Claudia," Dalton whispered. Spike roared and threw him to the ground. "I tried to stop them," Dalton said. He looked fearfully up at Spike, the lie thick on his lips. "There were too many."  
  
Spike barely heard him. He stumbled over to a pillar and leaned against it. Claudia, he realized. That horrid bitch. I'll rip her guts out and eat them. Spike put hands around the pillar and laid his head against the cool concrete. Closing his eyes, he said, "Dalton, go get the Slayer out of the car."  
  
"What?" Dalton sat up, confusion on his burned face.  
  
"The Slayer!" Spike shouted. "She's in the car. Get her in here and tie her up." He reached up and yanked a long chain from a hanging pulley. "Use this."  
  
Dalton scrambled to his feet as the chain slammed into his back. He cast another fearful glance at Spike, then ran from the building.  
  
Spike watched as Dalton carried Buffy in through the door and dropped her on the floor. Her head hit with a thud and she groaned.  
  
"Take care," Spike said, "I need her alive." He pushed away from the pillar and pulled a chair upright. Collapsing into it, he added, "Get some locks for those chains. Then get this damn board out of my back."  
  
Dalton wrapped the long chain around Buffy, pinning her arms against her sides. Grabbing a lock from a nearby workbench, he snapped it into place and removed the key. Putting the key into a pocket, he started toward Spike but stopped. "Spike, there's a phone here."  
  
Following Dalton's gaze Spike's eyes found a cellular phone sitting on a crate by the door. Spike thrust his jaw toward the phone and Dalton moved to pick it up.  
  
"There's a number dialed in already." He brought the phone over and handed it to Spike.  
  
Holding the phone in his hand, Spike closed his eyes and gripped it tightly. Drusilla... To Dalton, he said, "Get that stake out." He set the phone aside and leaned forward, clenching his fists tightly.  
  
"How do you want me to do this?" Dalton's fingers twitched inches from the wood sticking out from Spike's back.  
  
"Just pull the bloody thing out and be bloody quick about it."  
  
Dalton nervously licked his lips and took hold of the stake protruding from Spike's back. He gave a swift tug and it pulled free. As Spike roared in pain, Dalton leapt away, putting as much space between him and Spike as the debris filled room would allow.  
  
Spike quieted and stood silent. Straightening up, he walked stiffly over to Buffy. Seizing her by the chains that bound her, he lifted her and held her face inches from his own. "I need you alive, pet. After I get Dru back and if you survive whatever it is they want you for, we're going to settle this."  
  
He threw her into a wooden crate, shattering it. Buffy rolled off and lay face down on the floor. Spike stepped toward her then stopped. One thing at a time, he thought. Get Dru back. That's what you have to do.  
  
Spike stretched his neck by twisting it from side to side. Settling onto a crate, he gestured at the phone. Dalton picked it up and handed it to him. Without a word, Spike sat holding it. Then, his calm demeanor a facade, he raised it and hit send.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow waited as Stephen unlocked his hotel room. He hadn't spoken more than ten words since they left the gallery. Me either, Willow thought. I'm just so worried about Xander. And Buffy.  
  
Stephen pushed the door open and flipped on the lights. As Willow followed him in he set the package he was carrying on the table on the far side of the room. He immediately began tearing the strings off and pulling away the paper.  
  
Sitting on the edge of the bed she reached for the phone. "I going to call my parents and tell them I'm staying at Buffy's tonight," she said. Stephen nodded as he pulled the first of the paintings out.  
  
By the time Willow hung the phone up, Stephen had removed all five portraits and set them on the table. He stood with his hands on hips staring at them.  
  
"What now?" Willow said. She walked over and stood next to the table. "Do we just, uh, open them up?"  
  
Stephen nodded. "I guess I'll just take the frames off first." He pulled a small knife from his jacket and folded out the blade. Flipping a portrait over, he began prying at edges of the central panel. A moment later it popped free.  
  
Willow gingerly touched it with her finger. Stephen picked it up and looked at the edge. He shook his head and set it back down. He flipped over another and began prying with the knife once more.  
  
When the third portrait came free of the frame, it was obvious something was different. The painted panel was at least twice as thick as the others were, and a thin line ran completely around along the edge. Willow ran her finger along the edge and chills went down her spine. She drew her hand back and wiped it on her dress. There was no dirt but she still felt the need to clean her finger.  
  
Stephen said, "I guess that this is probably it." A tired look crossed his face and he sat down on the corner of the bed. "We don't want to open it yet. It's dangerous."  
  
Willow nodded and sat in a chair beside the table. "What do we do with it?"  
  
The phone on the nightstand rang. Stephen leaned back across the bed and picked it up. "Hello? Giles? What's going on?"  
  
Willow sat back and tried to stay calm. Her hands locked onto the armrests as she sat listening.  
  
"That's terrible," Stephen was saying.  
  
Oh God, Willow thought. What happened? Please let them be okay.  
  
"The book as well. I see. This one that took the book, he was not with Spike, you're sure about that? Angel shouldn't go by himself...he already did." Stephen looked over at Willow. "Yes, I'll tell her. We'll see you there." Stephen hung the phone up, then sat facing away from her for a moment.  
  
Tell me what? Willow's heart froze.  
  
"This Spike fellow took Buffy. Alive apparently. Another vampire took the book Angel was bringing." Stephen turned to face her. "Xander is in the hospital with some broken ribs, but he'll be fine."  
  
Broken ribs? Poor Xander... Wait, Spike had Buffy? She covered her face with her hands "What do we do?"  
  
Stephen stood and picked up the panel piece. "We go to the docks. Angel is going to Spike's hideout after Buffy. Giles said that the vampire that took the book was one that Angel saw on the docks. We'll go there and investigate."  
  
Willow took her hands away. "Xander?"  
  
"He'll be fine. We'll go see him after the docks."  
  
Willow nodded and stood. I'm not going to cry, she told herself. I can't help them unless I stay calm. She clenched her hands together. This is me being calm. Smiling weakly, she whispered "See my resolve face."  
  
Stephen picked up the panel and put it in his jacket. He picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. "I'll get us a taxi."  
  
* * *  
  
Giles hung the phone up and turned to the hospital bed next him. "Xander, they'll be over in a few minutes."  
  
Xander nodded. "Thanks." He tried to sit up, but the pain in his sides was too great. "Giles, we've got to find Buffy. Why are you still here?"  
  
Giles pushed Xander back down on the bed. "I think, I hope, that Buffy is some what safe for now." Giles' voice was strained. "Spike could have killed her outside, but didn't. He took her. That other one wants her alive as well. We've got to find out what is going on." He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "When Stephen and Willow arrive tell Stephen that I've gone to join Angel at the factory. I doubt we'll find her there, but we have to check."  
  
Xander nodded weakly, then winced. "Buffy sure packs a wallop." He looked up at Giles, "Get out of here, G-man."  
  
* * *  
  
Willow followed Stephen through the gate. A large chain link fence was all the security that the Sunnydale Shipyard boasted. Behind her, the taxicab that had just dropped them off drove away. Willow watched it go, then hurried to catch up with Stephen.  
  
"Shouldn't we be sneaking around or something?" Willow asked. She looked around nervously. "We're kinda out in the open here."  
  
Stephen looked back; "We'll be fine." He waited for her to catch up, then took her hand. "Just look like we belong."  
  
Willow looked down at her dress. I'm dressed for the docks, that's for sure. Stephen tugged at her hand and they moved off together.  
  
Passing several warehouses, Stephen suddenly took the narrow alley between a pair of them. Does he know where he's going? Willow thought. Near the end of the alley they passed a small door. Willow could see that a light was on inside but the frosted glass prevented any kind of look into the interior.   
  
As they turned the corner Stephen let go of her. Light spilled from the large open doors on the end of the building. Willow stopped but Stephen kept walking. "Wait," she whispered. She started backing up into the alley. What is he doing?  
  
Behind her the small side door opened. Willow spun around. A blond woman in a pants suit and high heels stepped out and smiled at her. "Well, aren't you just a precious little thing."  
  
Willow turned back toward Stephen and started to run. Before she could take a step two vampires stepped from the open warehouse doors in front of Stephen. "Stephen, run!" she shouted.  
  
A hand grabbed her by the neck. Willow was yanked back and the blond woman leaned her face, her horrible vampire face, down towards Willow's neck. Willow kicked and thrashed, but the grip on her throat only tightened.  
  
"Claudia," Stephen said calmly, "knock it off. I want her for later." He turned around to face them and reached into his jacket.  
  
"What?" Willow's voice was a thin whisper. She began crying and her voice cracked as she spoke. "You're helping them?"  
  
Stephen took the panel from his jacket and tossed it to Claudia. She caught it with one hand; the other maintained its grip on Willow's neck. "Helping us?" She laughed. To Stephen she said, "Why this pathetic little thing? I thought it was Severian who liked the young girls..." She trailed off and fear crossed her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"  
  
Stephen stared coldly at her, then looked down at Willow. There seemed to be no emotion at all in his once friendly eyes. "Take her inside."  
  
As Claudia drug her into the warehouse, Willow's sobs filled the night air.  
  
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	13. Part Twelve

Part Twelve  
  
  
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Angel sat in a chair, his head down. Debris lay scattered about the factory floor, providing a confusing jumble of sights, but he saw none of it. Only one thing in the room held his attention. Buffy's shoe.  
  
It sat on one side, the black leather scuffed along the toe. The new leather was still hard, and the damage done would not have come easily. The shoe, and Buffy, had been dragged over the concrete, and ended up here. That means she was here, Angel told himself. She must still be alive. He clenched his fists together and looked up. Think. Where would Spike take her?  
  
Angel stood and walked over to where the shoe lay. Bending to pick it up, his mind raced. The sewers? The docks? Spike's car was still outside.  
  
That big bastard with the gun was at the docks the other night. The leader, he was sure of it. He and Spike clearly did not get along then, let alone tonight.  
  
Angel's eyes swept the room. He'd seen the ash from destroyed vampires when he came in. Whose work was that? There. A pair of empty shell casings lay by the door. Glancing about, he saw a dozen or more scattered randomly around the room. Dried blood was splattered in splotches beneath the various patches of ash.  
  
Angel straightened suddenly, remembering what he'd overheard in the library.  
  
Of course! Spike was after the book, the Master's book. The gunman is the one that wanted Buffy alive, not Spike. That's why he didn't fire when Spike held Buffy between them. Why then would Spike not kill her after he escaped? Spike wanted the book, but not enough to die for. Was it worth trading Buffy for the book? Is that why he kept her?   
  
Or was it something else? Angel started as it came to him suddenly. Drusilla.  
  
It could be that Drusilla was still alive. Last he'd heard she had been living with Spike in Prague. So she should have come with him. If these others had her for some reason, it could explain why Spike had not killed Buffy. Yet. Then again, Spike may be dead now and the others could have taken Buffy from him. Where is she?  
  
The sound of soft footsteps echoed outside and Angel dropped the shoe. He stole quietly across the room, carefully avoiding the debris, and leaned against the wall next to the wrecked door. Someone's head leaned carefully around the edge. With a snarl, Angel transformed and grabbed the person, jerking them roughly into the room. He raised his fist to strike.  
  
"Arrhhhh!!!" Giles cringed, holding his hands in front of himself. A cross clattered to the floor.  
  
Angel let him go and stepped back. Visibly struggling to calm himself, he said, "You shouldn't be here."  
  
"After my entrance went so well I'm beginning to think the same thing." Giles straightened his glasses and took in the wrecked factory. "What happened here?"  
  
"Somebody destroyed Spike's crew. Buffy was here." He gestured to the shoe.  
  
Giles stood silent for a moment. "Whatever is going on, they want her alive."  
  
Angel nodded. "I don't have a clue who these other vampires are. The one with the gun, I'm positive he was the leader of the group I saw at the docks the other night, though."  
  
Giles hands shook as he looked about. Stay calm, he told himself. You've got to think clearly. "We can't just flail about the city. She could be anywhere. We need a starting point."  
  
"The docks. That and the sewers." Angel leaned back again the wall. "It's a few hours till dawn. I'll go to the docks, then into the sewers."  
  
Giles nodded. "I'll consult my books, the few I have left. Perhaps the paintings Stephen purchased will provide a clue for us to start from."  
  
Angel smiled weakly. "Your books are out in Spike's car."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I guess Spike was in a hurry, the books are still here." Or he is dead, Angel mentally added.  
  
"Thank heavens for small miracles." Giles turned for the door but paused just before leaving. Though he spoke to Angel, both knew his words were meant for himself as well. "Buffy is alive. If we can just find a place to begin our search, we can get her back."  
  
Angel nodded as Giles left. With one last look around the ruin of the factory, Angel followed him out into the night. As he left the factory grounds, Giles' words ran through Angel's mind. Buffy is alive. He held on to the thought as if it were a talisman that could protect her. She is alive, and I'm going to find her.  
  
* * *  
  
Severian gripped the steering wheel tightly. He'd been parked on a side street by the docks for nearly an hour, but he had not yet let go of the wheel. A flood of emotions rippled through him, racing from one extreme to the other. Rage, sorrow, fear, bravado. It was a mind-numbing experience.  
  
What is happening to me?  
  
Forcing himself to let go of the steering wheel, Severian pulled his hands back and stared at them. I've got to think this through rationally.  
  
Laughter burst from his lips at the thought. Me? Rational? That would be a first. The laughter died away. Actually, Severian realized, I have been rather calm lately. Where has that come from? He sighed and looked up at the rear-view mirror.  
  
Still gets to me. You just expect to see something, anything. After all this time you'd think it wouldn't be such a surprise anymore. Especially after all this time. I didn't used to care.  
  
Severian swung his eyes to the warehouses lining the docks. He needed to get in there. Kveltain would not be pleased at the turn of events. Claudia will be milking this for all she can. His eyes narrowed as he thought of her.  
  
She didn't warn me of Spike's activities, but that hardly would be the extent of her plans. She can't face me; she needs Kveltain to do it. So, don't make him angry. I'm not afraid of him. Not exactly. Still, it wouldn't be wise to set him off. There was a time when he would have killed us both. Now he just doesn't seem to care, and Claudia grows more and more aggressive.  
  
Severian looked at the enormous book in the seat beside him. The dark, heavy tome was lying on top of his rifle, resting at an odd angle. You have some good news. Use that.  
  
He pushed the car door open and got out. Picking up the book and gun, he stood silent by the open car door. Funny, he mused, I think the only time I haven't felt odd in the last few, well years, was when I was angry at Spike. Like I had woken up or something.  
  
He tilted his head back and looked up the stars. Enough of this. Deal with Claudia and Kveltain, then figure out whatever the hell is the matter with you. Be assertive, confident, he told himself. Do not lose your cool. All that crap from those damn business books Claudia was always reading. Kveltain seemed to approve of that rot, another change in personality.  
  
Deal with Claudia. Yes, I think I might enjoy that. Flashing an evil grin, Severian kicked the car door shut and strode toward the warehouses.  
  
Lose my cool? Me? Never happen.  
  
His smile gleamed brightly in the dark.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow tugged at the rope binding her wrists behind her back. It was tied very tightly, and she winced at the pain. Though it had been on for only a few minutes she could feel her hands getting numb.  
  
She lay against a metal pole in a darkened room near one wall of the warehouse. That Claudia vampire had passed her to another and he'd tied her up here. Now, only a bit of light seeped in beneath the closed door in front of her. Twisting herself around, she managed to turn so that she faced the pole. Maybe if she could get around she could bite the rope.  
  
She arched her back and leaned back. A couple of inches shy. Collapsing forward, she breathed raggedly. This was not working, she thought. In desperation she threw herself back and tried again. Almost far enough... Her back screamed in pain and finally she could stand it no more. She fell forward again and leaned, dejected, against the pole.   
  
Beyond the door, she could here voices. Stephen's voice. What was he? If he was a vampire how could he have been outside in the day? Why did he pretend to be our friend?  
  
Willow dropped her head and tears began streaming down her face. The long day combined with the fear of the last half-hour was like a crushing weight that threatened to pull her under. Buffy had been captured, perhaps even killed, Xander was in the hospital and she was tied up in a warehouse full of vampires. I don't want to die, she thought. Not today. Not after this morning. Did I wait for Xander to notice me only to die when he finally does? "Please no," she whispered.  
  
"Don't cry little girl," said a voice in the darkness.   
  
Willow nearly shrieked at the sound. Twisting around, she looked toward the back of the room. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dim light from under the door, but she could make out the faint shape of somebody sitting on the floor. The person moved and the sound of metal clinking faintly echoed in the room. "Who's there?" Willow called out.  
  
"It won't help you," the voice said. A woman's voice. Willow noticed that she sounded a lot like Giles. "Since you will be dead soon we should sing a song. A pretty little song, like at a funeral."  
  
Willow shrank back from the voice. "Who are you?" Her throat catching, she barely got the words out. The woman began to hum to herself and Willow turned away. Think, she told herself. Crying isn't going to get you out of here. Blinking the tears from her eyes, she forced herself to listen to the voices beyond the door. She could almost make them out, but the woman's humming was interfering. "Shut up!" Willow said. She turned to look at the dark shape behind her.  
  
The woman ceased and sat very still. Then she pouted like a child; "You don't like my song?" She began to whine as if she were about to cry.  
  
"I thought you said crying won't help," Willow said angrily.  
  
The woman stopped and hissed at her.   
  
Willow turned away. What was wrong with her? She made herself forget about the crazy woman behind her and turned her attention once more to the door.  
  
Outside, Claudia stood with her arms folded. "So," she said, "what now? Severian has obviously failed to protect the Slayer as you ordered. If the trade I have arranged doesn't pay off, what then?"  
  
Kveltain ignored her. He was leaning over a workbench with a drawing of the cavern containing the Hellmouth spread out before him. He murmured something to himself, the glanced up at Claudia. "Did you say something?"  
  
Claudia pressed her lips together in a thin line. "I was saying-"  
  
"These measurements, are they accurate?" Kveltain interrupted.  
  
She looked down at the paper and nodded.  
  
"Good, good." He returned to the drawing. Running his finger around the center, he said, "Let's get all of the coffins down there as soon as possible. There are only a few hours till dawn and it's likely that Angelus and the Slayer's Watcher will come here next."  
  
"Here?" Claudia was confused. "How would they know to come here?"  
  
Looking up from the drawing again, Kveltain looked directly into Claudia's eyes. "Angelus watched your little drama the other night while you were unloading the ship. Very sloppy of you not be more careful. Spike and Angelus both discovered you." He spoke carefully, with no trace of emotion.  
  
"Severian was in charge. He's been going senile or something recently. I was only following his-"  
  
"Yes Claudia, following my orders. Would that be in the same manner that you followed Kveltain's orders when you called to warn me of Spike's activities tonight?" Severian stood in the entrance of the warehouse, a gun over his shoulder and an enormous book cradled in one arm. "Perhaps you would do us all a favor and explain exactly how that sort of behavior fits into that philosophy of organization you are always prattling on about."  
  
Kveltain straightened and put his hands behind his back. "I was beginning to wonder what you were up to. Obviously it wasn't doing your job."  
  
Severian smiled and walked forward slowly. "Well, I admit things didn't go as planned." Claudia snorted at the remark and Severian gave her a grin. "Though I'm sure Claudia is already well on the way to a solution to my misfortune," he paused and tossed the heavy book to Kveltain. "I did manage to get your precious book. Maybe your little charade can end now?"  
  
Kveltain caught the book and set it down carefully on top of the drawing. He ran his fingers over the front cover, then pressed his palms down against it. "Those pathetic Watchers have managed to keep this damn cipher from me for nearly nine hundred years," he whispered. "Finally I can fix everything." He looked up at Severian. "Funny that you should mention Claudia having a solution to your error." He gestured to the rear room. "We have trade material for the Slayer. Spike's companion."  
  
Stepping around the bench, he walked toward Severian till he stood only a few inches away. "You salvaged the book, and for that I am pleased. You failed in your primary mission, and for that I am quite distressed."  
  
Severian's eyes flickered to Claudia, who stood behind Kveltain with the faint hint of a smile on her lips. He said nothing, but his jaw visibly tightened.  
  
Kveltain looked back over his shoulder at Claudia. "I'm also not happy with the, well, breakdown in communications." Turning back to Severian he added, "You two can finish this when I am done here. Until I am, stop it."  
  
Turning to walk back to the bench, Kveltain spoke to both of them behind him. "Now, I need the coffins moved to the Hellmouth and the trade with Spike conducted while I translate the nine parts of the spell. Also, I've taken a child named Willow. She's one of the Slayer's friends. I'll need her for part of the ritual as well as insurance against interference by the Slayer's Watcher.  
  
Claudia gave Severian a calculating look and said, "I think that you should let me make the trade with Spike. I set it up, after all. Severian is more than capable of overseeing the transfer of the coffins to the Hellmouth."  
  
Turning around, Kveltain gave Severian a questioning look. "Maybe she's right. You have been rather absent-minded recently. I wouldn't want you to forget what you are supposed to do."  
  
"Whatever you think is best," Severian said tonelessly. Both Claudia and Kveltain stared at him in open shock. "I wouldn't want to jeopardize anything."  
  
Claudia's eyes narrowed. What the hell is he up to? She started to speak, but Severian continued.  
  
"I think I can manage the Hellmouth setup as well as guarding this Willow."  
  
Confusion on his face, Kveltain said, "If that's what you want to do." He waved his arm at the shut door. "She's in there. Get the coffins below ground before sunrise. I'll have try to translate the spell then I'll join you."  
  
Severian walked past him and pushed the door open. As the door opened, light marched across the dark floor until it illuminated Willow. She sat leaning against a post, her hands behind her.  
  
Blinking her eyes at the brightness, she drew her feet back under her. Severian looked at her for a few seconds, then turned back to Kveltain. As he turned away Willow gasped as she recognized him from the gallery. Behind him she could see Stephen. Kveltain. Whatever they were calling him.  
  
"Claudia," Stephen/Kveltain said, "get the other one and go deal with Spike."  
  
Claudia moved past Severian and into the room. As she passed toward the back, Willow turned to look at the woman behind her.  
  
Chained to a metal post, she had pale skin and long dark hair. Her long white dress was rather dated, and she rolled her head back and forth. Still humming softly, she looked up at Willow and smiled. "Don't you want to sing? It's almost time."  
  
"Shut up you crazy freak," Claudia said. She unlocked the chain from the post and pulled the woman to her feet. As she dragged her past Willow, the woman leaned down at the red head and snapped her teeth at her. Willow shrank back as far as the rope would let her.  
  
Severian moved to go into the room but Claudia paused, blocking his path. Whatever Severian was doing, she had to interfere somehow, she thought. What is he up to, though? In desperation she blurted, "Do you really think leaving that girl in his hands is a good idea? I mean, given his normal pastime it might be better if I took her."  
  
Severian's eyes flashed in anger and he started to swing his gun down off his shoulder. Kveltain put his hand on the barrel and held it still. Looking in to Severian's face he said, "You have been absent-minded. It wouldn't do to have you forget that I need her." Turning to Claudia he said, "Take her as well. Don't you forget either."  
  
Her face beaming triumph, Claudia motioned to a vampire nearby and sent him in for Willow. She smiled at Severian, then left the warehouse, the woman in tow. Several vampires joined her, dragging Willow along as well.  
  
Severian stood, his face frozen as if carved from granite as he watched Willow pulled away into the darkness. What the hell is wrong with Kveltain? He should have killed us both for our failures. And why am I thinking about that girl?  
  
Kveltain put his hand on Severian's shoulder as Claudia and Willow left, and leaned close to whisper in his ear. "I know you haven't been yourself recently. It will pass. For now, just remember that you are a vampire. Now, get those crates into the tunnels and to the Hellmouth." Then he turned away and went back to the workbench.  
  
Severian stared after Willow, then turned to Kveltain in confusion. Remember that I'm a vampire? Did I hear him right? He shook himself, then moved toward the remaining vampires standing by the crates. Later, he thought. Figure it out later.  
  
* * *  
  
Across town, on the third floor of Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Xander woke up. Buffy. Willow. What has been happening? In fear he turned and fumbled for the light switch. Wincing at the pain in his ribs from the effort, he blinked at the brightness and looked around the room.  
  
His mother sat in a chair, asleep. There was nobody else. "Mom," he croaked.   
  
She stirred and opened her eyes. "Xander?" She got up and hurried over. "How are you? Do you need anything?"  
  
"I'm fine. Listen, did Willow or anybody come by while I was asleep?"  
  
His mother shook her head. "No. When I got here there was nobody."  
  
"Maybe I should call her." Xander stretched his arm out towards the phone.   
  
His mother grabbed his hand and forced it back down by his side. "It's almost 4 am. She's probably asleep. You can call her in the morning."  
  
"I have to talk to her," Xander said. He tried to sit up, but dizziness and his mother forced him back down. The pain pill, he realized. That nurse lied. She said it wouldn't make me sleepy.  
  
He tried to think of something to say to make his mother give him the phone, but before he could he collapsed into sleep again.  
  
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	14. Part Thirteen

Part Thirteen  
  
  
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Angel crouched beside the control cab of a dock crane. From his position above the wharves, he could see nearly all of the Sunnydale dockyards. There was virtually no activity, just a pair of wandering security guards who seemed more interested in talking to each other by their guard shack than patrolling. There was, however, something of interest.  
  
A small warehouse towards one end of the docks had all of the lights on. The doors on the side facing Angel were shut, but the brightness spilling through the windows along the top of the sides drew his eyes like a magnet.  
  
He slid off the side of the crane to the ground below. With a glance towards the guards, he darted across the open wharf to the line of warehouses. In the shadows by the buildings, Angel moved quickly down toward the end. As he neared the one with light, a door opened and several shapes began coming out.  
  
Angel scrambled quickly into the alley between a pair of warehouses. With his back to a wall, he leaned to the side and peered carefully around the corner. In shock he jerked his head back around.  
  
Drusilla! She was alive. That female vampire from the docks the other night, Claudia he'd heard them call her, was there as well. Drusilla was bound with a chain, being pulled along by another vampire. Relief of sorts rushed through him and Angel leaned forward, his hands on his knees, partly relieved. If they had Drusilla prisoner, then possibly he and Giles were correct. Spike may indeed have Buffy alive.   
  
I have to follow them, he thought. The sounds of footsteps sent him ducking back into the dark shadows of the alley. Claudia went by, Drusilla in tow. Several vampires followed. Then Willow flashed in front of him, her hands bound. She stumbled along as the vampire behind her roughly shoved her every couple of steps. Angel froze in shock. How did she get here?  
  
He waited until he heard no one else approaching, then peered out of the alley. The group was headed toward a pair of vans. Angel crept out of the alley and hurried along the warehouses after them. He was crouched as he ran, his long coat dragging the ground. As he reached end of the line of buildings, he paused to watch the vampires get into the vans. Claudia, Drusilla and Willow got into one, along with two vampires. Three others boarded the second van.  
  
Angel realized that there was no way to keep up with the vehicles on foot. He clenched his hands and tried desperately to think of an idea. Grimacing, he thought of one. This will not be fun, he told himself.  
  
The vans started and began to pull out of their parking spaces. Angel waited until both vans were facing away from him then ran toward the closest, the one with Willow and Drusilla. Just as he was reaching it, the van accelerated and left him behind. "Dammit!" Angel said.   
  
Running as fast as he could, he changed his course and headed for the gate at the entrance to the docks, cutting behind an office trailer. Just have to hope they don't see me, he thought. The pair of vans followed the lined road within the dock grounds. Angel's shortcut gave him just enough time to reach the gate as the vans swung around a corner and started to pass by. As the second van flashed in front of him, Angel dove and grabbed for the rear door handle.  
  
His fingers caught it momentarily, but slipped. As he fell face first toward the ground his left hand slapped onto the bumper. He seized it and hung on. Stretched out behind the vehicle, Angel was dragged painfully across the asphalt. Gritting his teeth, he slapped his other hand onto the bumper and tried to pull himself up. As he did so the van slowed to turn onto the city street. He strained up and grabbed the door handle, then managed to pull himself off the ground. He got one foot onto the bumper and leveraged himself into a crouch; his feet perched precariously on the bumper.  
  
Angel held on tightly, the injuries to his ripped knees and legs tingling painfully. He put his head against the back of the door and closed his eyes. Almost sunrise, he thought. I wonder where they could be going with so little night left. And how did they get Willow? His eyes opened. Stephen. They must have him as well. Giles had told him that he and Willow were taking these portraits someplace. If the vampires had Willow, then probably they had they had the portraits as well.  
  
First things first, he told himself forcefully. Find Buffy. Then deal with the rest. He leaned his head against the van once more and closed his eyes. Why does it sound like somebody singing in there, he wondered? Then he recognized the voice. Drusilla.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy groaned as she tried to sit up. A dull pain gave her head a heavy, bloated feeling. Why can't I sit up, she wondered? Forcing her eyes open, she took in the clear, starry sky. What? I thought I was in the school.  
  
The school. Xander! Trying once more to get up Buffy realized that her arms wouldn't move. She raised her head up and looked down her body. Almost blacking out from a rush of dizziness, Buffy could see a chain wrapped around her, holding her arms against her sides.  
  
She let her head fall back and lie painfully on the-grass? Where am I?  
  
"Spike, I think she's awake." A man's face appeared over her. Through the fogginess of her mind Buffy could see that he was vampire. A vampire with glasses and a burned face.  
  
At the mention of Spike's name Buffy began to struggle against the chains. They were wound tightly and she couldn't move enough to put any pressure against them. The burned vampire saw her struggling and knelt down over her. He grabbed her by either arms and held her still. "What do you want me to do?" he said.  
  
Buffy cringed as Spike leaned over her. A cigarette dangled from his lips and as he crouched down and took it from his mouth. For a second Buffy thought he was going to burn her with it but instead he stubbed it out on the grass. Bringing his face close to her own, he suddenly shifted to his vampiric form. "No," Buffy whispered. Don't make me a vampire, she thought. Anything but that.  
  
"Yes pet," Spike said. He smiled, his fangs gleaming inches from Buffy's face. "Just not tonight. Though these others may have something special for you." Spike looked away as the sound of engines reached them. "Looks like they're here."  
  
Buffy twisted her head to try and see. The light of what seemed like car headlights shone across the grass. I'm in a park, Buffy realized. She couldn't see enough to even hazard a guess as to which one, though. "Dalton, get her up," Spike said.  
  
Dalton picked Buffy up at the shoulders and stood her up. Buffy blinked her eyes as pain washed through her head. When it lessened, she could see that they were standing out in a small city park on the east edge of Sunnydale. The edge of the forest-covered hills overlooking the town were just a hundred yards away. Beyond a few empty swings and a set of monkey bars a pair of vans pulled into the small parking lot.  
  
Holding Buffy tightly, Dalton licked his lips nervously. I really don't want to be near Claudia again, he thought. "Spike?" Spike turned back to look at him. "Are you sure this is such a good idea? I mean, it's almost daylight and we're out in the open here. And why don't we have the car?"  
  
"She said no cars. There's a sewer connection back in those trees," Spike said. "I didn't pick this gig, they did. We have to play along for now."  
  
"How can you be sure they'll give Drusilla back? You know that she's going to try to kill us as soon as she has the Slayer. Why are you trusting them?"  
  
Spike grimaced in frustration and turned away to face the vans once more. "Because I don't have any bloody choice. Now shut up."  
  
As the vans were rolling to a stop, Angel jumped off the bumper and dove quickly through a row of bushes. Crawling to the other side, he hunched down low and peered carefully over the top. The vans parked, their engines running. Three vampires got out of one van and stood by the second.  
  
Inside, Drusilla was humming softly in the seat next to Willow. She smiled at Willow and tried to lay her head on Willow's shoulder. Willow threw her off and pulled back. "What is the matter with you?"  
  
Drusilla stopped humming and sat up straight. "I don't think you've been very sociable. You will have no cakes tonight." She laughed. "You won't have anything but nightmares." Her eyes flashed darkly and she leaned forward towards Willow's face. "Like me." A forearm hit Drusilla in the face and knocked her away.  
  
Claudia drew her arm back into the front and turned to the vampire next to her and said, "Stay here with the girl. You," pointing to a second vampire in the very back of the van, "get behind the van and be ready for any kind of trick." He nodded as he loaded an assault rifle. Claudia opened the door and stepped out. She pulled the side door open and reached in for Drusilla.  
  
Drusilla whined and tried to scoot away from her grasp, but was blocked by Willow. "I don't want to go! I want to go home to my mummy." Struggling in the chains, she slipped and fell onto Willow, then they both slid off onto the floor.   
  
Willow grunted at the weight on her stomach. Drusilla thrashed about and one end of the chains binding her hit Willow in the face. "Ow! Get off of me," she said. Claudia seized Drusilla by her chains and lifted her bodily into the air and out of the van. She threw her to the ground outside and slammed the door shut.  
  
The vampire in the van grabbed Willow and stuffed a rag into her mouth. "You keep quiet, you hear?"  
  
"Remember," Claudia said to the vampires gathered around her, "we get the Slayer at all costs, then we kill Spike. Nobody make a move till I say. You," she pointed at one, "will bring her back to the van." Claudia tugged at Drusilla's chains. "Let's go."  
  
Spike stood, his jaw set in stone as he watched Drusilla's treatment. Claudia forced Drusilla to her feet and began pushing her towards the open field of the park. Three other vampires spread out in a ragged line behind them. Though they had nothing in their hands, they all wore long overcoats with plenty of room for weapons. "Dalton, stay back till I tell you otherwise." Spike walked slowly forward a few yards then stopped.   
  
When Angel spotted Buffy across the field he nearly called out. "She's alive," he whispered. Closing his eyes he took a moment to calm himself. I've got to get her away from them.   
  
The sound of a door opening brought his attention back to the vans right before him. The rear door of the closest van opened and another vampire got out quietly. He held a large military weapon and moved carefully to keep the van between himself and Spike.  
  
The hint of a smile touched Angel's lips as an idea formed. He pulled a stake from his coat. The armed vampire had his back to him and was peering carefully around the side of the vehicle.  
  
Angel coiled up then sprung over the bush. Landing a few feet beyond he rushed quickly to cover the 10 yards separating him from the van. Hearing the thud of Angel's boots hitting the pavement, the vampire spun around to face him and tried to bring the gun up. Angel thrust the stake out in front of him as if it were a sword, plunging it into his chest. A gasp burst from the vampire's lips just before he burst into ash. His gun clattered to the ground. Wincing at the noise, Angel picked it up and leaned again the back of the van. Gripping both the stake and rifle, he peered around the side of the van to watch the activity in the park.  
  
Inside the van Willow heard the scuffle and twisted in her seat to look out the back windows. Angel! She started to try and cry out through the gag, but she then thought of Buffy in the field. Angel was working on a plan, she told herself. Let him carry it out. The vampire in the van sat with his back to her, his attention on the field. He appeared to stir at the sound, but only growled, "Keep quiet," to Willow.  
  
Out on the grass, Claudia stopped ten yards from Spike and smiled. "You've been a busy little beaver tonight, haven't you." She jerked the chain in her hand and Drusilla stumbled forward and fell to the ground. "Though, I do believe that you've misplaced something."  
  
Spike's eyes flickered to Drusilla, then back to Claudia. "I believe I have something of yours as well." He tossed his head over his shoulder towards Buffy. "Now, get your three shadows back and we can get this over with."  
  
Angel watched as Spike and Claudia bickered. With the first hint of dawn touching the eastern sky, Claudia finally shoved Drusilla forward. As she reached Spike, the vampire behind him let go of Buffy and she fell to the ground. Spike helped Drusilla up and hurried back toward the trees. After a dozen yards, he picked her up and began to run.  
  
Claudia waited until Spike went past Buffy. Once he did, she waved her arm forward and began running after him. Two of the three vampires out on the field her joined her in the chase. The third picked Buffy up off the grass and began hurrying back toward the van. Shots rang out as the pursuers pulled weapons and began firing at Spike, Drusilla and Dalton.  
  
Relief washed over Angel. Yes! This was going to work.   
  
The vampire carrying Buffy hurried back across the field to the vans. He dropped Buffy to the ground by the other van and tore at the door. When he turned his back Angel lunged forward and slammed the stake into his back. He yanked it free just as the vampire flashed to dust.  
  
"Angel," Buffy cried. "Oh thank God!"   
  
Angel dropped his weapons, knelt down and took Buffy in his arms. "Buffy! I was so afraid I'd lost you." Holding her tight against his chest, he whispered, "I don't think I could handle that."  
  
A tear ran down Buffy's face. "I knew you would come for me."  
  
Angel began tearing at the chains. He quickly loosened one of Buffy's hands.  
  
Inside the van, the vampire in front of Willow started at the sudden destruction of his companion by Angel. He pulled a stake from his jacket and quietly opened the door. When he was completely out and about to shut the door, Willow kicked the side of the van.  
  
Angel set Buffy down on the ground and spun around at the sound. Just as he did so he was tackled roughly and slammed into the pavement. His attacker plunged a stake at his chest but he caught it an inch shy. Slamming his knee upward, he flipped the vampire up and over him. He turned over and hurried to his feet. His opponent did the same and they lunged at one another again.  
  
Buffy managed to free one arm completely. In a fury, she tore at the chain holding her and in a few seconds managed to free her arms completely. She rolled over and grabbed the gun lying on the ground next to her. She awkwardly pointed it at the vampire fighting Angel. "Duck!" she shouted. Angel spotted the gun out of the corner of his eye and fell to the ground.  
  
Buffy pulled the trigger and the gun roared, horribly loud.  
  
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM  
  
Hit twice, the vampire was knocked from his feet. He fell hard and roared in pain. The stake flew from his grasp and skittered away. Angel scrambled quickly on his hands and knees after it. He wrapped his fingers around it then quickly turned and slammed it home into the vampire's chest.  
  
Claudia ceased her pursuit of Spike at the sound of the gunfire behind her. "Forget Spike," she shouted, "get back to the van!" Squeezing her gun tightly she began to run back across the park toward the vans. The other vampires turned and followed.   
  
As Claudia ran, her eyes got very big as she took in the scene across the park. The Slayer was loose! Somebody was helping her to her feet. She raised the gun and fired a long burst at them. Her companions also began to fire.  
  
Damn! I've got to take her alive, she remembered. She forced herself to stop firing and screamed at the others to do the same.  
  
As Angel helped Buffy to her feet, bullets began striking all around them. They buzzed past like hornets. Some struck the vans; others skipped off the pavement. Angel jerked Buffy around and put himself between her and Claudia. He tore the door of the van open and threw her inside. Crawling in after her he threw the van into reverse and slammed the gas pedal down. The tires smoked as it tore back across the parking lot.  
  
Inside the other van Willow screamed and fell to the floor as bullets tore through the window. Her hands were still bound and she tried to press herself into the floorboard. Shattered bits of broken windshield rained down onto her back. She managed to spit the gag out of her mouth and cried "Buffy help me!" The gunfire ceased but Willow didn't move. "Angel! Buffy!"  
  
The sound of squealing tires brought her head up. The other van, with Angel driving, weaved drunkenly away as it hurtled across the pavement backwards. It stopped with a jerk, then sped forward, turning away. The acrid smell of burnt rubber drifted through the air.  
  
"They left me," Willow said. She was too numb to cry. Leaning back against the side of the van, she closed her eyes and sat very still. "They left me."  
  
The door opened and Claudia looked in at her. Her horrid vampiric features were twisted in utter rage and her hands shook. Thin curls of smoke drifted from the gun in her hands and the smell of cordite filled the air. The first rays of sunlight brightened the sky behind her and Claudia shouted something in a language Willow didn't recognize. She slammed the door shut once more.  
  
As Angel drove away, Buffy crawled into the seat beside him. "Thank you," she said. Though covered with dirt, bruises and obviously exhausted, her eyes shined brightly.  
  
Angel gave her a slight smile. "I need to get under cover. We'll have direct sunlight in about five minutes."  
  
Buffy nodded and put her hand on his arm. "You can hide in the back if you have to." Seeing his expression, she continued with a worried tone. "Is something wrong?"  
  
Angel looked away. "I was so desperate to save you, I forgot something. I just can't remember what at the moment." He held the steering wheel tight as the van raced against the rising sun.  
  
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	15. Part Fourteen

Part Fourteen  
  
  
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Soft whispering filled Xander's ears. He stirred slightly, rolling partially to one side, but pain made him wince and he lay still again. The voices in his room paid no heed and his face twitched in annoyance. He groaned and twisted his head to the left. Opening one eye slightly he saw his mother across the room talking with a nurse.   
  
"Be quiet," he wheezed. He tossed his head to the other side. The warm light of sunrise was peeking beneath the closed blinds. Xander stared stupidly at the light slipping into the room. What is going on? The pain in his ribs gave an easy reminder, but something else was nagging him. "Mom!" he called out. His mother stopped in mid-sentence and hurried over.  
  
"Xander, go back to sleep."  
  
"Mom, did Willow come by?" Xander voice held a touch of fear, and his mother looked oddly at him as he spoke.  
  
"No, but I'm sure she'll be by later. Is something the matter?"  
  
"I... I just have to talk to her."  
  
His mother ran her fingers through his hair. "It's too early, you can call her later. I have to go to work this morning, but your father will be by in a few hours to take you home. I'm sure Willow will come by the house today. You can talk to her then."  
  
Xander nodded. His mother kissed his forehead and left the room. The nurse she had been speaking to followed her out and shut the door. Before the door had even clicked shut Xander threw the sheets off and dropped his legs over one side. As he sat up the pain in his ribs made him gasp, but he noted that it was no longer the sharp, stabbing pain he had experienced the night before. It had since dropped to a severe ache.  
  
He leaned forward and pulled the phone from the nightstand and onto the bed beside him. Holding the handset, his fingers paused over the buttons. Who first? Willow or Giles?   
  
I have to know if she's safe, he thought. He dialed Willow's number.  
  
* * *  
  
The van jerked to a stop. Buffy tried to put the van in park but her foot slipped from the brake and it shuddered forward. Stamping down once more, it slammed to stop and rocked back and forth a few times. Succeeding with the gearshift at last, she turned to Angel behind her. "It's dark here, you can get out."  
  
He pulled back the edge of the tarp he covered himself with and stared off into space. "Oh God," he whispered. Guilt darkened his face and he drew back as Buffy leaned down towards him.   
  
"What's the matter?" she said.  
  
"Willow."  
  
"What about her?" Buffy's voice rose slightly as she spoke.   
  
"She was in the other van. I...I forgot. When I saw you and the shooting started, all I could think about was getting you out of there." Angel spoke softly, his eyes shut. Tears ran down his face and Buffy could hear the pain in his voice. She reached out and put her hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "Buffy, I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay," Buffy said, her voice a whisper. "We'll get her back." Though she tried to hide it, Buffy could hear the doubt in her own voice. Willow might already be dead. She drew her hand back and wiped a tear from her eye. "Let's go get Giles. We need help."  
  
* * *  
  
Sunlight streamed in through the library windows and dust motes danced in the warm beams. Rupert Giles set down his heavy load of books and fell into a chair by the long table in the middle of the room. He took his glasses off and put his fingers to his temples. Spread out on the table before him were dozens upon dozens of books, Willow's computer and reams of paper, all rescued from Spike's car. Until these get into some kind of organization, I'll never find anything of use to help Buffy, he thought.  
  
Buffy. Why hasn't Angel called? Did he find anything out? Exhaustion on his face, Giles put his glasses back on and reached for a book. He ran his fingers over the leather cover. I'm so tired. Angrily he dropped the book back to the table. I won't be of use until I get to work, he told himself. You don't have time to be tired. Forcing the desire for sleep away, he stood and began sorting the books into piles.  
  
Giles was soon lost in his work, and several orderly groups of books began to form. Though the security cage door was ruined, the shelves within were intact. The safe door was also cracked open. He had forgotten to close it after retrieving the crossbow the night before. Carrying several books through the ruin of the cage door, Giles suddenly thought of the portraits and Stephen. I wonder what he has discovered? Were the three he purchased last night of any use? I should call him.  
  
The sudden ringing of the phone made Giles jump, nearly spilling the books in his hand. He dropped the books on the table as he passed and he all but dove at the checkout counter for the phone.  
  
"Hello? Angel? Oh, Xander. Wait, calm down. What is the matter?" Giles clenched the phone in his hand as he listened. Xander sounded panicky. "Slow down. Willow and Stephen never came to the hospital? Her mother said what? That she spent the night at Buffy's? That can't be. Yes, I understand. Let me think for a moment." Giles closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Xander, we have to assume that Stephen and Willow have been taken. Can you get over here? Good. Hurry. No, I've heard nothing from Angel about Buffy. Now hurry."   
  
Giles hung the phone up and stood silently for a moment. Buffy, Willow, Stephen and the portraits all appeared to now be in the vampires' hands. He sagged against the counter and dropped his head. Whatever these vampires were up to, they appeared to be succeeding.  
  
Enough, get back to work.  
  
His eyes went to the piles of books. What am I doing? Organizing my books? I should be researching. Giles went to the table and looked quickly though the piles for that book Stephen brought, his ancestor Lord Alfred Allinson's journal. "Ahh," he murmured as he pulled it free of a stack. He flipped quickly through the yellowed pages. "Where was that passage?"  
  
Sitting down, Giles flipped towards the back of the journal. "Just before the death of the Slayer Natalia, I believe." A few dozen pages from the end he found what he was looking for. He put the book down on the table in front of him and peered carefully at it. A scrawled cursive passage stood out from the neat block lettering that filled most of the page.  
  
Damn that girl. I told her to wait, but she didn't listen. They never have. Of course her Watcher went right along, the stupid goat. No wonder these children die like flies. They don't think and they never listen. They've gone charging in with no clue and all my efforts have been ruined. S. will make short work of them both. Dammit all to hell.  
  
Giles sat down in the chair, away from the book. That passage had seemed odd when he first read it, now doubly so. Lord Allinson's diary related the deaths of Natalia and her Watcher battling a vampire in St. Petersburg a few pages later, but this passage seemed to expect what was coming. "It's as if he knew Natalia and her Watcher's deaths were foregone conclusions."  
  
Giles pursed his lips and looked over the scattered books. Natalia's Watcher. I wonder what he had to say just before he died. Where was his diary? Oh yes, already back in the cage. Giles hurried across the room and into the cage. He pulled the book from the shelf and turned to leave. As he did so, a hint of blue inside the safe caught his eye. Stephen's bag. He had put it in the safe before leaving for the gallery. Giles grabbed the bag by the straps and lifted it out. The surprising weight jerked his arm painfully towards the floor. "Good heavens," Giles muttered, "what could be in here?" He carried the bag to the table and set it down on one of the cleared sections.  
  
Putting the book aside, Giles unzipped the bag and pulled the sides apart. Seeing what was inside, he stepped back in shock. "Where did Stephen get this?" he wondered aloud. He put his hands in the bag and began pulling out the pieces of a disassembled assault rifle.  
  
Giles adjusted his glasses and peered carefully at the weapon. Smiling to himself, he reached for the pieces and began assembling them. The smile left his face as he pulled a clip of ammunition from the bag. With a sinking feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, he set the rifle down. Thumbing a bullet from the clip Giles held it up in the light and examined it.  
  
A cap of soft lead was on the tip. Obviously not original to the bullet, either. Giles set the bullet on the table and went into his office. He returned with two pairs of pliers and sat down once more.   
  
The gun was exactly the same kind as the vampire the night before used. His eyes lingered on several of the books in front of him. The journals of Stephen's ancestor, Lord Alfred Allinson. The style of writing was remarkably similar to that of Stephen's more modern notes. Now he happens to be carrying exactly the same kind of weapon as one of the vampires...  
  
I need to check the journals, Giles thought. He looked down at the gun. "This first," he muttered.   
  
When Angel was shot last night he said there was holy water in the bullets. Taking the bullet into the teeth of one pair he placed the second pair of pliers on the lead cap and started to twist it off. Before he could apply any real pressure the doors to the library burst open behind him. Leaping to his feet Giles stood between the door and the gun.  
  
"Buffy!" Giles dropped the pliers and bullet to the table and rushed to the door. Buffy was holding the door open, still in the black dress of the night before. It was ripped in places and very dirty but Giles' eyes were on the various bruises that covered her. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine, would you get the blinds?" She thrust her jaw towards the windows across the library.   
  
"What?" Giles said, then seeing Angel in the hall holding a large tarp over his head he added, "Oh, of course." He spun and quickly hurried to comply. "What are you doing out?" he called to Angel over his shoulder. He finished and turned back to face them. Buffy stood near the end of the table, worn out and exhausted, while Angel moved to take a chair at the far end, deep in the shadows. He pulled tarp off and set it aside. He leaned back, pale and weak.  
  
"We have a problem," Buffy said. "Angel...We, left Willow behind-"  
  
"It was me," Angel cut in. He looked Giles in the eyes. "I saw Willow with the vampires when I followed them to a park." Buffy tried to speak up but a look from Angel cut her off. "Willow was in a van when they tried to trade Drusilla to Spike for Buffy. I took Buffy away from them." He stopped and looked at the floor.  
  
"Yes?" Giles urged.  
  
"They started to shoot at us. All I could think about was getting Buffy away from there. I forgot that Willow was in that other van. By the time I remembered we had already driven away and the sun was up." He looked up at Giles and Buffy. "It was my fault. I left her." Angel closed his eyes and dropped his head. "I can't help thinking that she probably knew what was happening."  
  
Giles looked away from Angel to Buffy. About to speak, his words died in his throat when he saw Xander standing halfway through the doors of the library.  
  
"What!" Xander walked forward and let the door swing closed behind him. "You forgot her?" He was wearing the clothes from the night before but the white shirt was wrinkled and his hair was wild. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and he was still wearing his hospital wristband. As he crossed the floor his voice shook with rage. "You selfish bastard!"  
  
Buffy stepped away from the table and put herself between Xander and Angel. She put her hands on Xander's chest and forced him to stop. "Xander, wait."  
  
Xander never heard her. He thrust he head forward over her shoulder and shouted at Angel. "What the hell do you mean you forgot her?"  
  
"Xander calm-" Giles broke in but Xander cut him off.  
  
"What? I should calm down because deadboy here feels guilty? That's all he ever does. 'Oh look at me, I'm so tortured.'" He looked directly at Buffy. "This," he pointed at Angel, "vampire was sitting on his ass in his apartment when you went to face the Master. He only went to look for you after I shoved a cross in his face. Now he 'forgets' Willow because he was so worried about you? And I should calm down because he feels badly about it? Not this time! Not when it's Willow!" He tried to push past Buffy towards Angel but she grabbed his arms and held him still. Xander glowered at her, his face red with anger.  
  
Buffy looked away from him, tears in her eyes. "Xander, please. It wasn't like what you think. I don't think we could have gotten her out of there."   
  
"You could have tried." He looked at her hands on his arms. "Let go of me."  
  
Angel stood slowly and looked at Xander. "I'm sorry. I can't undo what's already happened. I'll do everything I can to help get her back."  
  
"Your help? So far it's been pretty pathetic!"  
  
"What do you want me to do?"  
  
"You can die," Xander hissed. "You and every other goddamned vampire."  
  
Giles spoke up forcefully. "This recrimination is doing us, and Willow, no good at all. Let's work to get her back." The others turned to stare at him. "For instance," he continued, "they could have killed her at any time, yet they simply held her prisoner while making this 'trade' Angel mentioned. So the hope remains that we can still get her back."  
  
"Yeah," Xander said, "just like we got Jesse back." He looked away, his eyes welling up with tears. Buffy tried to put her arms around him and pull him against her, butXander pushed past her towards Angel again.  
  
"We'll save her," Buffy shouted. "Now stop it, Xander!" She yanked Xander back away from Angel, who remained silent.  
  
Giles looked away. After a moment he spoke again. "I'm afraid that I have some additional bad news. It would appear that we, I especially, have been misled." When he saw that he held everyone's attention he reached Lord Allinson's journal. "I fear that Stephen Allinson is not who he has appeared to be. Look here." Giles held his finger on the scrawled passage he had examined earlier. "I was so caught up in the...well, it doesn't matter. This was written in 1889, in St. Petersburg. Supposedly by Stephen's ancestor. It seems odd, and I think I know why." Giles began digging through the piles of books until he came to a more modern one.  
  
"What's this about, Giles?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Here." Giles opened the newer book and set it beside the older one. "This is Stephen's journal. The notes he had brought for me to look at." Giles peered closely at the two then pulled back. "Good God. I was right."  
  
"What?" Buffy leaned in to see. Xander put his head over her shoulder.  
  
"They look the same," Xander said.  
  
"Yes. The same person wrote both books."  
  
"Stephen?" Buffy said, incredulous. "But he can't be a vampire. He was in the daylight." She looked at Angel. "Right?" He stirred uneasily.  
  
"Out with it," Xander said to Angel. "This isn't the time for your cryptic garbage."  
  
Angel nodded, then spoke softly. "It's just legends. Stories vampires tell each other. That there were old vampires that could go about in the daylight. I mean very old, not hundreds of years old like the Master, but thousands."  
  
"Why haven't I ever read of this before?" Giles said. "That sort of information is significant, even if only a legend. It should have appeared in the Watcher diaries at some point."  
  
Angel shook his head. "It's not something that comes up much. You see, according to the legend the reason vampires don't live that long anymore is because one of the old ones offended God or something. The ancient ones were struck down. As vampires grow older they become rash, egotistical. Without these ancient ones to guide them, the older vampires, like the Master, meddle and draw attention to themselves." Angel looked right at Buffy. "His activities drew the Slayer to him and she killed him. Needless to say, vampires like the Master don't enjoy hearing this so it rarely comes up." Angel shrugged. "It's only a story, though."  
  
"Maybe," Giles said. "Nevertheless, our problem at hand is what to do about Willow. These vampires are here for a reason." He looked at the others. "I suspect that that reason is the Hellmouth." Angel nodded slightly. "I fear that our next encounter may be there."  
  
"What do you mean there?" Buffy said. "Actually at the Hellmouth?" She looked uneasy. Brushing her hair back with one hand, she said "The last time..."  
  
Giles cleared his throat, "I understand you may be uncomfortable, but it may be necessary."  
  
Buffy nodded and closed her eyes. "I know." Opening them, she stared up at the ceiling. "Necessary seems to come up a lot." She looked back down and her eyes locked onto the weapon on the table. "What's up with the machinegun?"  
  
Giles picked it up. "It was in Stephen's bag. I think I'd better put it away."  
  
"No way," Xander said. "I'll take it."  
  
"Xander this is not a toy. It is extremely dangerous and you don't know how to use it properly," Giles scolded.  
  
"Then show me." Seeing the look on Giles and Buffy's face, he added, "Look, they've got guns. You can't just expect Buffy to get close enough to stake them if they are shooting at her."  
  
"He's right," Angel said. "If nothing else it will make them more cautious."  
  
"Then I will use the weapon," Giles said. "We don't have time for you to learn, Xander."  
  
"Teach fast. I'm going to get Willow and I'm taking that gun." Xander looked defiantly at the Watcher. "I'm not going to just crawl around while Buffy does everything. I have to-" Xander choked up and looked away. "I have to get Willow out of there." His voice nearly breaking, Xander ran his fingers over Willow's computer on the table in front of him. "I'm not asking."  
  
Giles shook his head. "I'm not going to let you have it, Xander. It's too dangerous. But I will show you how to use it, in case I become incapacitated." Xander nodded sullenly.  
  
"The docks," Angel said. "I doubt they will be there anymore. A truck was parked outside the warehouse they were in last night. If the Hellmouth is really what they are after-"  
  
"We have to check the docks first," Buffy cut in. "Just to be sure." She gave Angel a questioning look. "Drusilla?"  
  
"A friend of Spike," Angel said carefully.  
  
"Xander, come over here." Giles picked up the weapon. "This is a Steyr AUG assault rifle, designed in Austria. It fires 5.56 millimeter ammunition from thirty round clips."  
  
Buffy turned away as Giles explained the gun to Xander. The Hellmouth. I don't want to go back there, she thought. But Willow may be there now. You'll do what you have to.  
  
She noticed Angel behind her. As she turned to face him, he put his hand against her cheek. "You can do it," he said. "You went there once, you can do it again."  
  
"How did you know-"  
  
Angel smiled and ran his fingers across her face. "I can read."  
  
"Hey deadboy," Xander blurted, shattering the moment. "I thought of something you can do for me. Do you have any money?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I need to pay the taxi driver."  
  
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	16. Part Fifteen

Part Fifteen  
  
  
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"This world is older than any of you know. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons, demons walked the Earth, and made it their home-their Hell. But in time they lost their purchase on this reality, and the way was made for mortal animals, for Man. All that remains of the Old Ones are vestiges, certain magicks, certain creatures..."   
  
"And vampires."   
  
-Rupert Giles and Buffy Summers in "The Harvest"   
  
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Severian held the metal pole steady while another vampire pounded the restraining bolts into place. The hammer blows echoed loudly through the cavern and an occasional spark flashed in the dim light. At last the hammering ceased and the ringing of metal on metal faded. Severian gave the pole a tug, then nodded in satisfaction. The base plate was held firmly by four long bolts driven deep into the rock. Chains were attached to the pole, manacles on the end. They clinked softly as they swayed back and forth.   
  
Stepping back, Severian took the hammer from the vampire and nodded towards the exit. "Go help with the rest." He turned and eyed the other seven poles, fastened in a precise circle around the old church altar that marked the center of the Hellmouth. Several large metal coffins were piled into one corner and another was being brought in. Eight in all, Severian knew. Eight poles. That made sense. Why then were there nine plates from the portraits? Eight plus the Slayer makes nine, probably.  
  
He moved past a pair of vampires running wire from a portable generator to a series of lamps and sat down on the altar. It creaked ominously and he stood back up. Scowling he kicked at it. His shoe punched through the rotted wood and stuck. "Piece of crap," he muttered as he pulled his foot free.  
  
Severian ran his fingers through his hair and pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Unfolding it, he spread it out on the altar. He reached down and grabbed one of the kerosene lanterns providing some of the light in the room and held it up so that he could read his instructions. The poles were done, the coffins still being brought in, though they were nearly all down here. The lights, wiring and generator was still in progress. Just about everything was taken care of, it seemed. After folding the paper and putting it away Severian looked up at Kveltain across the cavern.  
  
He sat in alcove on the floor, legs crossed beneath him. A notebook in his lap, he was writing slowly. Arrayed before him lay the nine gold sheets. Gleaming weakly in the poor light, they caught Severian's eye and he stared curiously at them. Whatever they were, they were proving to be harder to decipher than Kveltain had anticipated. Twice since coming down to the Hellmouth he had flung the notebook away and raged at any who came near. When he concentrated, Severian could still smell the faint odor of ash drifting through the cavern. One vampire had been too close at the wrong time.   
  
Snorting, he turned away. I thought I was the maniac. At least I used to be one.  
  
The generator behind him coughed, then sputtered to life. Lights around the cavern grew in intensity until the room was illuminated. The two vampires by the generator looked at Severian expectantly and he shooed them towards the exit. "Go help the others."  
  
Kveltain stood and walked over to the altar. Setting the notebook on the top he pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and put them on. Returning to the gold sheets, he gingerly picked them up and carried them to the altar. After spacing them across the mildew-coated surface, he dropped the gloves onto the altar.  
  
"Having trouble?" Severian asked.  
  
Hands on his hips, Kveltain looked up and smiled. "Not anymore. I've got the covering spell worked out. As soon as Claudia returns, I'll remove it and we'll get started."  
  
"Covering spell?"  
  
Picking the notebook up again, Kveltain read down the open page. "Yes, covering spell. Those miserable Watchers," he spit the word from his mouth, "covered the real spell to try and hide it."  
  
"Seems rather stupid," Severian said. "Why not destroy it instead?"  
  
A wry smile touched Kveltain's lips. "Why Severian, since when have you ever been interested in anything other than women, killing and plunder?" Severian said nothing. Setting the notebook down, Kveltain motioned towards the plates. "The spell hidden here isn't the kind of thing you can just destroy. If you do, some lunatic somewhere in the world will begin scribbling the words. Toss these plates into the deepest ocean and they will wash to shore to be found the next morning. This little bit of Hell doesn't care to be destroyed. The Watchers," his voice was softer this time, "did the only thing they could. They wrote the spell in its entirety and hid it."   
  
Severian scratched the side of his head. Looking at the panels he said, "So what does the real spell do?"  
  
Kveltain stood silent, his eyes boring into Severian. For a long moment the only sound in the cavern was the electrical generator humming along. "Not yet," he said at last. "Maybe in a little while." Before Severian could respond, Kveltain looked past him towards the entrance. "Claudia, so nice of you to join us. What have you brought for me?" Severian turned to follow his gaze.  
  
Claudia stood silently in the great concrete tunnel that led into the cavern. Her hair was in disarray and her expensive clothes wrinkled. Her face was coldly blank but her eyes held the glitter of something. Fear perhaps, Severian wondered?  
  
Behind her were three vampires and the red haired human child. The Slayer was nowhere to be seen. Definitely fear, Severian decided.  
  
"I... We were ambushed," Claudia said. Her voice was nearly firm, but the trepidation slipped through. Severian burst into laughter and her eyes flashed in anger. Clenching her fists, she continued. "The Slayer escaped and we lost three of our own."  
  
Kveltain stood with his hands clasped in front of him. "Spike and that lunatic you held?" he inquired pleasantly.  
  
"Escaped." Claudia's voice was a whisper.  
  
Pursing his lips, Kveltain walked forward slowly. He tilted his head to one side and opened his arms out wide. "You failed. For some reason I'm not surprised. Why is that, do you think?"  
  
Behind him Severian tilted his head and opened his arms, mimicking Kveltain's motions. He smiled broadly at Claudia, who glared back at him, anger seething on her face.  
  
"LOOK AT ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU!" Kveltain shouted.  
  
Claudia's eyes snapped back to him. She stood painfully straight, her arms locked against her sides. Behind her Willow cringed at the noise and tried to back away. The vampire holding the rope binding her pulled her back in front of him and put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. Severian brought his arms down and nodded sagely to Claudia.  
  
Continuing, Kveltain said, "You can play your little power games with Severian all you like, but NOT NOW."   
  
The angry words lanced into Claudia and she quivered at each syllable. Nodding her head jerkily, she stammered, "I'm sorry. It won't hap-"  
  
Cutting her off, Kveltain said, "No it won't."  
  
Smoothing her jacket, Claudia spoke softly. "What do you want me to do now?"  
  
"I've got a suggestion," Severian offered.  
  
Without looking back Kveltain put his hand out in front of Severian. "Not now, I said. Claudia, check on the guards. Make sure they understand that the Slayer must reach here alive. Kill anybody with her, but the Slayer must reach here unharmed." Claudia nodded. As she turned to go, Kveltain added, "Bring that girl down here first."  
  
Behind Kveltain, Severian fumed. What's the matter with you? I thought for sure you were going to kill her. This is pathetic.  
  
Claudia snatched the rope away from the vampire that held Willow and pulled her down the sloping stone to the floor of the cavern. Willow slipped on the damp rock but managed to keep her balance. Wordlessly Claudia handed the rope to Kveltain then headed back up and out through the tunnel.  
  
Severian watched as Kveltain pulled Willow across the rough floor towards the altar. As they climbed the low mound it rested on, Willow's shoes slipped on the rocks and she fell to the ground. Kveltain pulled her to the top, dragging her across the rough ground. She cried out as the ground tore at her skin. Without looking back Kveltain grabbed her dress behind her neck and yanked her to her feet. "What are you going to do?" Severian asked carefully.  
  
Reaching into his jacket Kveltain pulled out an old iron knife. The same he had held the other night at the hotel, Severian realized. "Remove the cover spell," Kveltain said.  
  
Willow's eyes widened at the knife and she pulled away. She stumbled frantically back but when she reached the end of the rope she jerked to a stop. Her feet flew out from under her and she fell to the ground. Kveltain roughly dragged her back towards him once more.  
  
Grabbing her by the arm, he yanked her back to her feet and tore the rope that bound her arms together. He held one of Willow's arms out over the altar and lay the knife against her palm. "No!" she cried. She began hitting Kveltain with her free hand. Ignoring her blows, Kveltain's eyes ran quickly down the notebook on the altar. As he began speaking quickly in Latin, Willow frantically tried to pull away. "Please, no," she whimpered.  
  
Kveltain sliced her palm deeply with the knife. Blood welled up quickly from the cut. Willow screamed loudly in pain and it echoed through the cavern. Severian took a step toward the altar, then stood still again.  
  
Willow collapsed, but Kveltain's hold on her arm left her hanging from his grasp. Still speaking in Latin, he moved her hand over the nine plates, letting drops of blood fall to the gleaming gold. As blood hit the last plate, the gold seemed to shiver. Ripples ran through the surface of the plates as if they were water.  
  
Kveltain let go of Willow's arm and she fell to the ground, sobbing. He leaned over the altar, watching the plates intently. Suddenly the rippling ceased. The angular, runic-style script was gone. A smooth mirror-like finish was all that remained. Kveltain narrowed his eyes and murmured, "Come on. Let's see it." As he finished speaking another series of letters appeared, this time in a different language. In moments all nine golden plates were covered with writing once more.  
  
Kveltain stared at the writing for a moment then laughed. "Oh, now that's funny. Severian," he turned to look behind him, "come look at..." His voice died away as he saw what Severian was doing.  
  
Willow was squeezing her wounded hand with the other. Blood seeped through her fingers and onto her dress as she sat on the floor. Severian knelt in front of her, tearing a handkerchief into a bandage. As Kveltain watched, Severian took Willow's hand and tied the cloth tightly around it. Her face held a look of utter confusion as he finished wrapping her hand. Severian let go and stared at her for a moment. Suddenly he scooped the slim girl into his arms and stood. Looking at Kveltain he said, "Are you finished with her?"  
  
Kveltain blinked several times at him. "Hmm? Finished? I still need her as bait for the Slayer, but I'm finished for now." Severian nodded and carried the girl down the slope from the altar. "Tie her up again and come back," Kveltain added. "It seems we need to talk."  
  
Severian set Willow down on the remnant of one of the church pews piled to one side of the cavern. He tied the rope around her hands and then to the pew. Turning to the vampire guarding the exit tunnel he said, "Keep an eye on her." He looked back down at the girl. She sat motionless, silently staring up at him. With difficulty Severian tore his eyes away from her and turned away.   
  
He could feel her eyes on him and he walked back across the cavern towards Kveltain. "Girl, you think you're confused," he muttered to himself.  
  
Kveltain stood with his arms folded as he leaned against the altar. It creaked slightly and he glanced down. Pushing away from it he moved to meet Severian halfway up the low mound that covered the center of the cavern. "You are a stubborn bastard, do you know that?" Severian said nothing so he smiled and continued. "I thought you would go through this a long time ago, but that ugly little demon inside of you just doesn't want to let go."  
  
Severian cocked his head slightly. "Let go?"  
  
Kveltain cast a glance towards the vampire guarding the tunnel and took Severian's arm. Leading him in the opposite direction he leaned closer and spoke softly. "The demons once inhabited the Earth, you know. This dimension."  
  
Severian nodded, an odd look on his face. Of course I know that, he thought. All vampires do.  
  
"They don't belong here, weren't part of 'The Plan' it seems." Kveltain waved his arms out wide with the last bit. "So, over time, they lost their hold here. Went back to their own home, Hell, whatever you want to call it. Just faded away, for lack of a better term."  
  
Severian stopped walking stood staring at Kveltain. "What is this all about? What does this have to do with..." He trailed off, unsure of his next words. Kveltain finished for him.  
  
"Your odd behavior? Let's see, recently you've been swinging from touching little scenes, like that display with that child," he thrust his jaw towards Willow, "to the murderous outbursts that we've all come to know and love over the years. Am I right?"  
  
Severian looked away from him and stared at the cavern wall. "Maybe..."  
  
"Maybe nothing," Kveltain said. "I know exactly what's going on because it happened to me."  
  
"What happened? I don't understand." Severian stepped back and leaned against the cool rock wall.  
  
Kveltain closed his eyes. "When you become a vampire, you die. A demon gets your body and your memories." He opened his eyes and looked carefully at Severian. "Thing is, the demon doesn't belong here. It already left this dimension once. If you wait long enough, then the demon starts to lose its grip on this reality once more."  
  
Severian rubbed his jaw with one hand. "Will I become human again?"  
  
"The Assyrian soldier I found is dead and gone. The demon is still here, but it is so out of touch that the, ah, copy of the human gains control..." Kveltain pursed his lips for a moment then added, "...eventually."  
  
"I was a farmer," Severian said, his mind racing. Was this true? The terrible acts can finally end? Suddenly realization dawned. If I can even think this way, it must be true. The demon has lost control? I can...wait, what did he say? "What do you mean, 'eventually'?"  
  
Kveltain clasped his hands together in front of him and considered Severian. Almost, he thought, but not yet. "The demon will stir occasionally, for a few years, decades even. You will lose control at times." Severian's face twitched at some memory and Kveltain nodded. "You're realizing that it's happened already a few times, aren't you?"  
  
Severian looked away for a moment. His eyes fell upon Willow across the cavern. Exhaustion on her face, the girl had curled up on the pew and fallen asleep. She looked so tiny and helpless. A part of him deep within wanted to hurt her, kill her in a horrible fashion. He shook himself. No more. Looking back to Kveltain, resolve on his face, he said, "What is this spell about?"  
  
"I don't think I can trust you. Demon or copy." Kveltain smiled slightly. "Trouble is, Severian, you've always been far more devious than you let on. You've played the maniac for the others, but I don't think that you have been one. I could be talking to the copy or the demon right now, I just don't know which."  
  
"Which do you want to be talking to?" Severian asked. Kveltain's demon must be gone. He must be good now, he thought to himself. Was that how Kveltain could go about in daylight? Suddenly a chill ran down his spine. Why should he be good? Humans could be evil and do terrible things. Kveltain might have been evil before he ever became a demon.  
  
His face carefully neutral, Kveltain spoke slowly. "It doesn't matter who I want to talk to, because I don't think either is in control yet. If I tell you what I am doing then one of your halves will not be pleased." Talking to himself, Kveltain muttered, "I should never have brought this up. That was stupid." He rubbed his hands together and started walking back towards the altar. "Enough of this," he said to Severian, "Make sure the last of the coffins are brought down as quickly as possible. I've got work to do translating this spell. The real spell."  
  
"So, I'm a copy. What about my soul?"  
  
Kveltain opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing for a few moments. At last he said, "Gone. Your soul is gone." Then he turned and walked away.  
  
Severian watched as Kveltain strode up to the altar. To hell with losing control, he thought. I may just be a copy but no way I'm letting that bastard demon take me over again. A surge of anger rushed through him and he staggered away from the wall. Doubling over, he clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He could feel himself slipping away as the demon battled for control.  
  
"No," he whispered. He slammed a fist into the wall and said it again louder. "No."  
  
The wave of rage slowly faded, and Severian forced himself to stand up straight. You've had your time, he thought. Now it's my turn. He started to smile, then saw Kveltain looking at him from the altar. His face was expressionless, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity.  
  
"No problem here," Severian said. He strolled past Kveltain towards the exit.  
  
As Severian went past, Kveltain eyed him carefully. Was the demon in control? He wondered. Damn Severian. He was always a little too clever. I should have killed him a long time ago. Then I wouldn't have to deal with this now. How do I find out?  
  
Glancing down at the gold plates, an idea came to him. He looked up and pointed at the guard by the tunnel. "You! Get Claudia down here, fast." He looked down at Severian, who was just passing Willow. Severian stopped and looked at her.  
  
For a few seconds, Severian simply stared at the girl. Suddenly he took his jacket off and draped it over her.  
  
Oh my, Kveltain thought. You're good, Severian. Very good. This is exactly the kind of thing I'd expect the demon in you to do to try and confuse me. "It's working," he muttered.  
  
"Did you say something?" Severian asked without looking back.  
  
"Yes, actually." He waved his hand at the plates. "It's what I was laughing about a minute ago. The Watchers who hid this spell were tenth century European Christians. I thought for sure that they'd write it in Latin or Greek or something. They put it in Hebrew." He paused expectantly.  
  
Severian stared blankly at him. "So?"  
  
"These were the kind of people that burned Jews at the stake. I suppose writing this spell in Hebrew makes a kind of sense. Of course, I haven't studied Hebrew in centuries."  
  
"What's the funny part?" Severian asked.  
  
"Random chance. The power of prophecies. That sort of thing." He motioned to the sleeping Willow. "That girl's last name is Rosenberg. Odds are she's Jewish. Since this is the Hellmouth, literally prophecy central," he cast his arms about, "I'm betting that girl knows Hebrew."  
  
Severian looked down at Willow for a moment, then back up. "I doubt she'll want to help."  
  
"So do I." Kveltain took the gloves from the altar and put them on once more. He grabbed one of the golden plates and walked down towards Severian and Willow. "Wake her."  
  
Severian reached down and gently shook Willow. She stirred slowly, then jerked away, her eyes wide. "Let me go," she whimpered.  
  
"Don't think so," Kveltain said. He shoved past Severian and stood next to Willow. "Do you read Hebrew, by any chance?" He thrust the golden plate in front of her face.  
  
Willow pulled back. "No," she said firmly.  
  
"I think you do," he said. Kveltain grabbed her by the back of her neck and pointed her face at the plate. Willow's eyes flickered to the lettering in front of her. Her eyes swept quickly over a few lines of text then grew very wide. "I thought so," Kveltain said. He looked up at Severian, a wry smile on his face. "Isn't this the weirdest place?"  
  
"I said as much once," Severian said tonelessly.  
  
Kveltain let go of Willow and walked back to the altar. As he reached it, Claudia entered the room. "You sent for me?"  
  
Tossing the plate and gloves down, Kveltain turned to face Claudia. "Yes. It seems that this girl Severian has taken such a liking to can help us." He waved at the plates. "Not that I wouldn't trust her translation, but I'd feel a little safer knowing her heart was really in it."  
  
Claudia walked down the ramp from the tunnel to stand by Willow and Severian. She gave Kveltain a questioning look. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
Severian stood silent. A terrible, heavy feeling came over him. I know what's coming, he thought. Please, no.  
  
Kveltain spoke to Claudia but his eyes were locked onto Severian. "I want you to make that girl a vampire."  
  
Claudia nodded slowly. "As you wish." Her face twisted and she reached down for Willow, smiling horribly. "Come here precious. This won't hurt much."  
  
Willow shrieked and floundered back on the pew. "Please God, no!" she cried. Claudia grabbed the rope tied to her hands and pulled the girl back toward her. Seizing Willow by the arms Claudia jerked her roughly off the pew and to her feet.  
  
Behind Claudia, Severian stood; his face set in stone. Willow's cries tore at his heart. How long since I ever felt pity for another? he wondered. Too damn long. I'd forgotten what it was like. He looked up at Kveltain standing by the altar. The monster that brought me to all this. Enough. I'm in control now. Nobody else.  
  
Claudia grabbed Willow by the hair and yanked her head to one side. As she leaned to bite the girl's neck a sledgehammer blow struck Claudia in the back. She shrieked in pain and fell to the ground. Willow slipped from her grasp and fell back onto the pew.  
  
Severian stood over Claudia looking down at her. She snarled up at him and tried to stand, but he kicked her once, twice, three times. Each impact harder than the last. With the final blow Claudia writhed in agony on the rock floor. Severian leaped over her and lifted Willow into his arms. He snapped the rope binding her to the pew and turned toward the tunnel exit.  
  
Kveltain stood by the altar, motionless during it all. Well, he thought to himself, question answered. "Severian, wait!" he shouted.  
  
Severian never heard him. The vampire at the tunnel stepped forward and raised his gun. As he did so, Severian tore across the cavern and up the slope. Before he could fire Severian was but a few feet away. He shifted Willow to one arm and lashed out with the other, knocking the gun away. The vampire before him stumbled back, waving his arms before him.  
  
Severian twisted his body to the side and kicked him in the stomach. The vampire slammed back against the concrete wall of the tunnel with a sickening thud, then collapsed. Seizing the dropped gun, Severian raced through the tunnel and into the sewer system beyond, Willow tucked under one arm.  
  
Up on the mound by the altar Kveltain threw his hands up in the air. "Great," he said sarcastically. "That's what comes from poor planning. I just had to know right now." Claudia had pulled herself to her feet and was standing awkwardly down below. He looked down at her expectantly. "Well? Go get him." Before he comes back to kill me, he mentally added.  
  
Claudia staggered from the room and Kveltain turned back to the gold plates on the altar. Taking his pen and notebook in hand, he pulled the first golden plate over and eyed it carefully. Mentally translating the text, he began to write quickly. A few minutes later he paused and turned to look toward the tunnel.  
  
It's funny, he thought. Severian running off like that is going to cause problems later. But I can't help thinking that I'd have been disappointed if he hadn't. Whatever comes of all this, I'm sure these last hours will be very interesting.  
  
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	17. Part Sixteen

Part Sixteen  
  
  
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Dalton winced with every step he took. He stumbled along the storm sewer through water up to his ankles. A bullet wound in his left thigh ached horribly and the burns on his face still stabbed him every time he spoke. Luckily for him, it wasn't often. Since reaching the safety of the tunnels Spike had said little to him.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder. Spike was a few yards back, carrying Drusilla in his arms. She hung loosely, like a rag doll. Her head lay against his shoulder and she was humming softly. Dalton shook his head and turned away. He had enough problems trying to navigate through this unfamiliar section of the sewers without adding to them by worrying about Spike and Drusilla.  
  
Ducking through a narrow section of tunnel, he stepped out into an intersection. It was round and five separate openings were spaced evenly about. Water glistened from the concrete and Dalton leaned back against the wall, letting the coolness sink in to the back of his head and neck. Spike splashed into the room and let Drusilla's feet fall so that she leaned on his shoulder. "Well?" he asked. "Which way?"  
  
Dalton gritted his teeth and stepped away from the wall. He moved to the middle of the room and looked carefully down each of the tunnels. "We came from there," he said, pointing back to the entrance they had just exited. Seeing Spike's expression, he hurried to continue. "That means that this tunnel," he pointed to one of the two on the far wall, "will take us back towards the factory."  
  
Spike moved to pick Drusilla up but Dalton held his hand up. "Spike, wait a second."  
  
"Yes?" Spike said, a tired impatience ringing in his voice.  
  
Dalton licked his lips nervously. "The Hellmouth. That tunnel eventually goes right by it. Even though we could avoid the actual cavern, Claudia and the rest are likely to be around."  
  
"Rest here a minute, luv," Spike said to Drusilla. He leaned her against the wall then splashed over to Dalton. "Where then?" he said angrily. "I thought you were supposed to be this great thinker."  
  
Holding his hand protectively in front of himself, Dalton backed away a few steps. "I'm not familiar with this part of town. But I think this tunnel," he nodded to the opening next to the one leading to the Hellmouth, "will take us to a heavy drainage tunnel that will pass by the Hellmouth with only a few connections."  
  
"A few," Spike said. He tilted his head slightly and pursed his lips. "Define 'few.'"  
  
"Five or six maybe?" Dalton shrugged his shoulders. "Not counting the drains, of course." He gestured to a series of smaller openings along the walls near the ceiling. "Certainly fewer than the other way."  
  
Spike turned to look at both tunnels. "Well," he said turning back, "who am I to argue with logic?" He reached and patted the side of Dalton's face. Dalton gasped from the pain from his burns and Spike smiled. "Let's go then." Spike crossed the room towards Drusilla. "Come pet, we're off."  
  
Drusilla flopped her head over and stared vacantly at Spike. "Go? Ms. Edith doesn't want to go just yet. The water makes such lovely noises." She ran her hand under a stream of water falling from a drain above. Smiling, she pushed away from the wall and twirled under it, then stumbled away from Spike when he reached for her.  
  
"Dru, you're getting your dress all dirty. Now come here. I want to leave." Spike held his hands out to her.  
  
Drusilla laughed lightly and danced through the water covering the floor. Spike's face tightened and he looked up towards the ceiling. "Drusilla," he said more insistently.  
  
Drusilla stepped into the Hellmouth tunnel and ran a few yards. Suddenly she stopped and started whining loudly. Grabbing the hair on either side of her head, she sunk to her knees and began rocking back and forth. "No, no, no, no," she said. "Spike?"  
  
Spike hurried over and knelt behind her. He put his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. She lay her back on his shoulder and looked up at him. "Spike?" she said again.  
  
"Yes, luv, I'm here. You seeing something again?"  
  
"Oh great," Dalton said. He threw his hands in the air and closed his eyes. "Just great."  
  
"Spike," Drusilla whispered, "he's going to do it. He's going to shut it. Don't let him. Don't." She pulled away from Spike and twisted herself around. Sitting in the water on the floor Drusilla pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Her eyes glinted darkly as they stared past Spike at nothing.  
  
"Shut what, baby? I don't understand." Spike leaned forward and put his hands on her knees. "I'll do anything for you. You know that. But you have to tell me more."  
  
"The Slayer," Drusilla hissed. She looked at Spike and saw him this time. "Keep her away. Keep her away from him. Don't let him do it."  
  
"Him?" Spike asked carefully. "Which him?" Behind Spike Dalton came closer and tried to listen in.  
  
Drusilla dropped her face slightly and smiled. "The cold one. He thinks he knows it all, but he's all gone. Gone away." She fluttered her hands like a bird and laughed. Ceasing suddenly Drusilla spoke firmly. "He wants the Slayer. Kill her; don't let him have her. He'll shut it and we'll all be gone. Keep her away."  
  
Spike regarded Drusilla carefully. Her visions were always accurate, but usually hard to figure out. This one seemed pretty clear. Which was probably bad. Sighing, he took her hands into his own and nodded. "I'll kill her, Dru. Keep her away, whatever. Anything for you, luv." Drusilla smiled at him, then collapsed.  
  
Spike caught her as she slumped and stood, cradling her in his arms once more. Turning to Dalton he said, "Him. Who do you think she meant?"  
  
Well, that tears it, Dalton thought. I'm going to die. "My guess is that it's whoever Severian and Claudia answer to. They've wanted the Slayer alive, it fits with what Drusilla said."  
  
Spike kissed Drusilla on the forehead then looked up at Dalton. "The Hellmouth, that's where they'll be." He grimaced and nodded at Drusilla. "It looks like we've been outvoted."  
  
We? Dalton thought. To hell with this, I want out of here.  
  
"Don't just stand there," Spike said, "let's get this over with."  
  
Dalton trudged past him and headed down the tunnel. His boots splashing in the water, he barely watched where he was going. Could it be possible, he thought, for this weekend to get any worse?  
  
* * *  
  
Xander jerked the van door open with a bang. "I knew this was a waste of time. She wasn't here," he said angrily. Angel scrambled back as the sunlight burst in and crouched against the far side of the van. He grabbed a tarp and pulled it up over himself, curling up tight beneath it, out of the sun.   
  
"Watch it, Xander!" Buffy pushed past him and crawled onto the rear seat. Leaning over the back she put her hand on Angel's still form, hidden from sight. "The warehouse was deserted," she said. "Are you okay back there?" Xander glared at Angel for a moment, then looked away.  
  
"I'm fine." Angel stirred slightly. "I guess that means we go to the Hellmouth."  
  
"I guess so," Xander said, frustration in his voice. Buffy looked over at him and watched as he wiped at his eyes. She started to speak but he slammed the door shut. "Hurry, Giles! Let's go." Xander moved around the van and got in the front passenger seat.  
  
Giles hurried from the warehouse and over to the van. Jerking the driver door open, he settled in and started the engine. As he slammed the door shut, he spoke over his shoulder towards the back of the van. "Angel, what would be the closest sewer entrance to the Hellmouth?" Shifting into gear, Giles pulled away from the docks and darted into the light Sunday morning traffic.  
  
"The safest would be the cemetery entrance," came Angel's muffled voice. He shifted against the side of the van into a shadow and pulled the tarp down off his head. His eyes watering in the unfamiliar brightness, he looked carefully at Buffy. "There is a storm grate nearer to the school. Hard to open, but much closer."  
  
"That's it then," Xander said. "We need speed." He sat stone faced in his seat; the crossbow propped up on the floor between his legs.  
  
Angel grimaced and let his head hit back against the back door. Buffy shook herself from her thoughts. Looking back at Angel she said, "But there's a problem, right?" He nodded. Glancing at Xander, she said, "Why can't we use that one?"  
  
Angel spoke carefully, his voice neutral. "Once inside we'll be forced to take one route to the Hellmouth. There aren't any connecting side tunnels in that area. The cemetery route is longer, but safer. There are at least a dozen different routes to take. They can't guard them all."  
  
Xander turned around. "No, they can just kill her while we prance around playing it safe."  
  
Buffy started to speak but Giles cut her off. "Xander, they've had her for several hours now. Angel says that she was alive the last time he saw her. They could have easily..." Giles trailed off for a moment. "At any rate, they went through the trouble of holding her prisoner for some reason." He looked at Xander, who sat staring out of the side window. "If we rush in and get killed, then Willow stands no chance at all. I think that the most logical choice for us is the cemetery entrance."  
  
"Logical," Xander said. He turned back to the front. Logic just isn't an option right now, he thought. Willow. He closed his eyes. My best friend. My...girlfriend, maybe. Damn me for waiting so long. All that time she was right there, and I wasted it away. I've never even told her that I love her. Not in the way she's waited so long to hear. Now she's gone.  
  
He forced his eyes open and looked out the window so the others wouldn't see his tears. Don't think like that, he told himself. We'll get her back. I have to get her back.  
  
He brushed the tears away and sat up straight. I've been down there twice, he thought. I can do it again. I got Buffy out, brought her back to life even. His determination faltered for a moment. But Jesse was already gone, a tiny voice whispered. You had to kill him. But you wouldn't have been able to kill him if the crowd hadn't pushed Jesse onto your stake.  
  
Xander clenched the armrests of his seat. Stop thinking about that! I can't think like this. But you have to. What if they make her a...  
  
Xander's heart froze. No, I can't even think about that. Looking down, Xander's eyes ran over the crossbow resting on the floor. I'm getting her back. He seized the stock of the bow tightly in one hand. Clenching his fist around it, he nodded.  
  
I'm getting her out of there or I'll die trying.  
  
Xander sat in silence, and though his emotions threatened to burst out, he forced himself to remain calm as the van hurtled through the streets of Sunnydale.  
  
* * *  
  
Ignoring the pain in her ribs, Claudia stood straight and forced herself to speak loudly to the vampires packed into the narrow tunnel in front of her. "Severian has betrayed our Master." Growls and angry hissing rose from the gathering. Waving her hands to quiet the noise, Claudia went on. "He has stolen his property and we have been tasked to hunt him down and kill him." Though many voiced their approval, fear and doubt clouded the faces of many.  
  
Well, that's to be expected, she thought. They'd all seen Severian kill before. It came as easily to him as walking. Smiling thinly, Claudia also noted the few scattered looks of wariness and calculation. Severian's supporters. Barring a direct order from Kveltain, and he was too busy playing magician, they would not believe her. This is why I deserve to be second, she told herself. I can think ahead.   
  
The corners of Claudia's mouth went up slightly as she considered the various reactions of the vampires. This speech was more than just to issue orders for the hunt, she thought. It was to weed out those that she couldn't trust.  
  
"You six," she said, pointing out the wary faces, "return to the tunnels to face the Slayer. Remember, she gets through alive and unharmed no matter what. Kill her companions, but she gets through."  
  
The six stirred and looked at each other. They know what I'm doing, Claudia thought. One, Phillipe, spoke up. "The plan called for all of us-"  
  
"The plan has been altered by Severian's betrayal," Claudia interrupted angrily. "At this critical juncture we must improvise. Now go!" The six filed slowly away, but several cast wary glances back. As they left Claudia nodded to herself. Good, the troublemakers were all together. The Slayer will surely kill a few, but now I know exactly where they are. I can deal with them later. She turned to the others.  
  
"Severian took this tunnel," she pointed behind her, "but it was a mistake. To close off possible avenues of attack by the Slayer we blocked several intersections and sealed the surface hatches. He will be forced to either come back this way or wait for darkness so that he can break a hatch and escape to the surface. There is also the possibility that we missed something. So we will hunt him."  
  
Stepping through the crowd she moved towards the tunnel Severian had taken. Turning back around, she pointed at a group of five vampires. "You will stay here. Not only will you guard against Severian's return, but when the Slayer passes on her way to the Hellmouth you will remove any of her companions still with her." She looked at the rest of the group. "You will come with me."  
  
Claudia paused and thought for a moment. The girl, she was the complication. The way to deal with Severian was to use explosives from a distance. The girl's presence prevented that. They would have to get close to kill him. And getting close to Severian was suicidal. Well, that's what peons are for.   
  
Grimacing, she spoke firmly once more. "Make absolutely certain that the girl he stole is unharmed. Kveltain wishes her to be made a vampire." For whatever reason. Scowling at the thought, she went on. "If you capture her, do so immediately. If she is killed or Severian escapes, then you will answer not only to me but Kveltain as well." She glared at the crowd, then waved them towards the tunnel. "Let's go."  
  
This is better than she could have ever dared hope, Claudia thought as she watched the vampires stream past. I've always been afraid of Kveltain's reaction every time I improved my position. He never once said a word about it, but still I feared it. Now I stand ready to take my place at his side at last, and it is by his command that I do so. Seven hundred years I've waited, and it is here at last. Her face broke into a smile and despite the pain in her side Claudia's step quickened as she headed down the tunnel.   
  
Severian, you smug, arrogant bastard, you are going to die. Whatever your horrid obsession with that little girl is, the last thing you see will be me ripping her from your grasp.  
  
Claudia caught the vampire in front of her looking over his shoulder oddly at her. "Hurry Darien," she chided, "we don't want to keep him waiting." She laughed cheerfully, and it echoed strangely from the dark tunnel walls.  
  
He looked away and muttered sarcastically, "Great, him in front of us and her behind. We're all going to die." The vampire in front of him glanced back at Claudia, then at him, agreement in her eyes.  
  
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	18. Part Seventeen

Part Seventeen  
  
  
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Sunnydale Cemetery was deserted as the van rolled to a stop. On the surface the warm sun, plush green grass and light breeze made for a pleasant Sunday morning. To the occupants of the van, however, the knowledge of what lay beneath the cemetery, the entire town in fact, the cheerful visage was a kind of horrible mockery.  
  
From inside the van Buffy's eyes swept the tombstones and monuments. Over the past year she had become intimately familiar with every inch of the grounds. She shook her head slightly at the sight. Strange, she thought, at night the shadows and statues made the place seem alive. Alive with monsters and danger, but alive. It's easy to believe in monsters when you are in the dark. But by day it all seemed so unreal.  
  
Dropping her gaze to Angel, Buffy exhaled slowly. He was curled up on the back floor of the van, under a heavy black tarp. Though protected from direct sunlight, Buffy knew that even the indirect light that seeped through to him was an extreme discomfort. Monsters, she thought to herself. I know that they are real. Angel was a monster, but that wasn't who he was. Not anymore. Angel was proof, though, that monsters existed. Buffy's eyes came up and drifted across the rows of headstones, gleaming in the morning sun. That's why pleasant scenes like this were a fraud, Buffy told herself. I wish I didn't know.  
  
In the front Giles shifted into reverse and began backing the van toward the small mausoleum that hid an entrance to the tunnels and sewers. Since Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale and subsequent patrols of the graveyard, the local vampires had abandoned this particular route to and from the surface. Just about any manhole cover would do in a pinch and the odds of the Slayer lying in wait on the other side were minimal. Besides, since the death of the Master most of the vampires had taken to living in a factory with Spike on the edge of town.  
  
A few feet from the mausoleum entrance Giles stopped the van and shut the engine off. He twisted in his seat to face the back nodded his head to Buffy. "Do you think this is close enough?" Xander snorted, pushed his door open and stepped out.  
  
Buffy watched Xander in silence for a moment, then turned and reached down to Angel. Putting her hand on his still form she said, "Just a few feet. Do you think you can do it?"  
  
"As long as I move quickly," Angel said. "Just open the doors for me." Giles nodded and got out of the van.  
  
Buffy patted his leg then got out as well. She hurried to the back and took the handle of the rear door in her hand. Suddenly she blurted, "Wait a sec." She cautiously pushed the heavy metal doors of the mausoleum open. Wincing at the loud creaking of the hinges, she stepped inside and looked around the small room. "All clear," she said as she returned to the van. The weight of the mausoleum doors caused them to slowly swing shut behind her.  
  
Giles stood by one of the rear doors of the van, one hand resting on the handle. "Xander," he said while nodding at the mausoleum, "hold the door open." Xander stared sullenly at him, then walked slowly over and pushed the one of the metal doors open. The hinges groaned loudly once more and Giles glanced around the cemetery nervously. Xander kept his arm out against the door to hold it open. "Buffy," Giles went on, "I guess we should..." He looked pointedly at the van doors.   
  
Buffy grabbed the other van door handle and spoke to the rear window. "Angel, just tell us when."  
  
"Anytime you're ready," came his muffled reply.  
  
Buffy nodded nervously to Giles, "One, two, three!" They tore the doors open and Angel dove from the van in a flash, holding the tarp over himself. Even as fast as he was moving the faint hint of smoke rising from his body was plain to see. His feet touched the grass once and he dove headfirst for the mausoleum doors, his long coat trailing behind him.  
  
As Angel passed through the open door and into the safety of the darkness within, his coat caught on the corner of the mausoleum door that was still shut. The sudden jerk on his coat pulled Angel from his feet. Falling painfully onto the stairs just inside, his legs lay behind him in a shaft of sunlight. He groaned in pain as his legs smoldered.  
  
Scowling, Xander kicked the corner of the door that held Angel's coat, knocking it free. He dropped the crossbow to the ground and crouched down. Grabbing Angel by each leg, he shoved him headfirst down the steps and out of the light. Angel rolled on the dusty floor gripping his legs with his hands. His face was twisted in pain and he hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
Buffy pushed past Xander at the door and rushed down the stairs. "Angel," she cried, "are you okay?" She knelt down on the floor beside him and her hands flew to his legs.  
  
"I'll survive," he grunted. Angel leaned forward and looked past Buffy to Xander standing in the entrance. He blinked at the brightness and shielded his eyes. "Thanks for the help," he said. Buffy turned her head to stare up at Xander, her eyes thanking him as well.  
  
Xander in the doorframe a moment before reaching down to pick up the crossbow. He walked slowly down the stairs and stood before Angel and Buffy. "Look," he said at last, "Willow is all I care about right now. We need you to get us through the tunnels and help fight the vampires. The other vampires. I haven't forgotten that you left her."  
  
"Neither have I," Angel said, a touch of anger in his voice. "It wasn't on purpose and-"  
  
Buffy grabbed his arm, cutting him off. Leaning in close, she spoke softly. "He's just worried. We all are." She turned back to Xander and spoke more loudly. "Xander, we all want Willow back. She needs us, all of us. Let's drop what happened and work on getting her back."  
  
"Yes, quite," Giles said. He hurried down the stairs, the gun in one hand and a small duffel bag in the other. "Xander, I understand your feelings but this bickering is getting us nowhere. We must push on and do our best for her." Xander nodded slightly and walked away from Buffy and Angel.   
  
Giles turned his attention to Angel. "Can you make a go of it?" he asked as his eyes flickered across Angel's legs.  
  
Nodding, Angel pushed away from Buffy and grabbed the edge of the sarcophagus that filled the center of the room. Pulling himself painfully to his feet he said, "We'd better get moving." Walking further into the mausoleum, he went to the door that led underground to the tunnel system beneath Sunnydale.  
  
The door was normally chained shut; it was pushed open, the broken chain dangling loosely from the handle. Angel paused for a moment and looked closer. A smiley face was draw in the dust that coated the door. He shook his head slightly then peered carefully into the gloomy tunnel beyond. "We'll have to move carefully. There are dozens of places for an ambush, but I think we can avoid some of them. I know a few side routes to take."  
  
"More time," Xander said.  
  
Buffy shot him a glare. "But we get there alive," she said.  
  
"Yes," Giles added as he stepped between them. He handed a stake to Xander and looked at Buffy. She pulled one from her belt and held it up. Giles nodded and said, "Now let's be off."  
  
Angel watched the exchange in silence, then disappeared into the tunnel. Giles followed, loading the rifle as he went. As Buffy started to follow, she saw Xander hesitate for a moment. Their eyes locked briefly, and then he looked down at the floor. "Xander," Buffy said, "what is it?" When he didn't answer she put her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "We'll get her back."  
  
"Maybe," Xander said softly. "Maybe we won't want her back." He looked up and Buffy's heart broke at the terrified expression on his face. "What if they... What if she's a..." He trailed off and his eyes went to the stake in Buffy's hand.  
  
Buffy glanced down at then back up at Xander. "Stop that," she insisted. "She's not, so just stop it." She turned her head so that Xander couldn't see the uneasiness that she knew was on her face.  
  
Xander didn't appear to have heard her. He pulled his eyes up from the stake and grabbed her by the arm. "Buffy, if she's... I can't do it. I can't. She'd want us to. You know that." Buffy said nothing but her eyes spoke unwilling agreement. Xander went on. "Willow would want me, us, to..." His eye's filled with tears and his voice broke as he forced himself to speak. "You'll have to do it. Please, I can't."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. Kill Willow. Giles would tell her that it wouldn't be Willow, that it was the thing that killed her. But it would still be Willow in Buffy's eyes. I can't, she thought to herself. Opening her eyes once more she saw the desperate pleading on Xander's face. "I'll do it," she whispered. And you will, she thought. You always do what you must, in the end.  
  
Buffy took Xander by the hand and pulled him towards the tunnel. "Come on," she said, "let's go save Willow." Xander nodded and together they stepped into the darkness.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow grimaced at the pain in her ribs. The vampire Severian had her tucked under one arm, holding her tightly as he raced through the dimly illuminated tunnels. Each jarring step impacted her ribs painfully and Willow's discomfort grew. She kept her eyes clenched shut because the rush of the walls passing and the constant up and down motion gave her stomach a queasy feeling. Her stomach churned and at last she could stand it no more. "Stop!" she cried. She began beating her hands on Severian's chest and flailing her legs about.  
  
The movement ceased suddenly and before Willow fully realized what was happening she was standing upright on her feet. The change in sensation added another twinge to her heaving stomach. Gasping, she put her hands, which were still bound together, against the wall to steady herself. Breathing deeply for a moment, she collected herself and opened her eyes.  
  
Severian stood staring at her. There was no expression on his face but his eyes glittered with interest. Willow met his gaze briefly, then looked away uncomfortably. She could feel his eyes on her and she grew more uneasy with each passing second. "Let me go," she finally whispered.  
  
"Where would you go?" he asked. His voice was strong and against the dark silence of the tunnel it sounded much louder that it actually was.  
  
Willow started at the unexpected response. She began prying at the rope wrapped tightly around her wrists. Though it had been broken from the pew she'd been tied to, it still firmly held her hands against one another. Making no progress she dropped her hands and looked up at him again. "Away from you..." She trailed off and a wary look came over her face.  
  
"Vampires?" Severian finished. He smiled wryly. Shouldering the rifle he carried Severian took her hands into his own. Flicking his finger across the ropes, pressure built on Willow's wrists. Her face twisted at the pain. The rope snapped suddenly and it faded. She pulled her hands away from him and began rubbing the red welts on her wrists.  
  
"Yes, you vampires," Willow said. "Now are you going to, ah, let me go?" She bit her lip and raised her face up to him uncertainly.  
  
"I just did." Willow's mouth fell open in surprise. "In case you didn't notice, I just took you away from the vampires. The other vampires, that is." He glanced down the tunnel in the direction they had come from. Willow twisted to follow his look. A low shuffling noise drifted faintly to ears.  
  
"That sounds like-"  
  
"A lot of footsteps," Severian interrupted. "As I was saying, I just took you from them, so I'm planning on being elsewhere as quickly as possible. You are more than welcome to come with me." He looked at Willow thoughtfully, then grinned. "In fact, I insist."  
  
"Where?" Willow asked, her eyes wide as the noise grew slowly louder.  
  
"Anywhere but here." Without waiting for a response Severian grabbed her hand and pulled her down the tunnel.  
  
"Hey," Willow said as she stumbled along, "I thought you let me go."  
  
Severian looked back at her in annoyance. "Technically, no," he said. He faced the front again and pulled her faster. Without looking back he said, "If I'm going to get killed for taking you away from Kveltain, then I'm certainly not going to let you wander off and back into their hands." He looked back at her. "Understand?"  
  
"Yes," Willow said meekly. Wait a second, she thought. That's three times he's said 'Took you from them.' Not 'saved.' What does he want with me?  
  
Hurrying along with Willow trailing, Severian turned a corner and stopped suddenly. Willow ran into him and hit her head on the gun he carried. "Ow!" she yelped. In front of Severian a heavy steel door blocked the tunnel. He let go of Willow and pulled a penlight from his pocket and shined it along the edges of the door. It was welded shut.  
  
"Damn!" Severian shouted. He kicked twice at the door. It thudded solidly at the impacts but didn't budge. "This was supposed to be open," he muttered. He spun and reached for Willow's hand again, but when she saw the anger on his face she backed away from him. "I don't have time for this," he said darkly. Severian grabbed her hand and took her back into the tunnel. Standing center, he paused and looked down the tunnel they had been following. "There should be access to the drainage system this way," he mused. "I can break through the gate I think." After tossing a fierce look back in the direction of their pursuers, he started down the hall in the opposite direction, Willow in tow.  
  
Willow quickly lost track of where they were. Severian left the main tunnel and began winding through a series of turns. Coupled with the dim lighting she was thoroughly confused. Before she realized what was happening, they came upon an unlocked door and stepped through into a round drainage tunnel. He shut the door behind them and hurried along through the ankle deep water that covered the center of the tunnel. There were no manhole covers in this area, Willow noticed, and the lack of light made it almost pitch black. As they splashed along, though, a faint light far ahead grew brighter.  
  
An iron gate loomed suddenly from the darkness, blocking their path. A few feet beyond the tunnel opened into a larger room. The floor ended as well, forming a kind of balcony. The light came faintly from someplace far above, out of sight. Severian let go of Willow's hand and began pushing at various parts of the gate.  
  
Willow took a few steps backward, sloshing slowly through the water. "Don't make me chase you," Severian said without turning around. Willow jumped at the sound of his voice, then froze in place.  
  
What does he want with me, she thought again. She forced herself to step forward towards him. "Wha..." She trailed off, then spoke again more firmly, "What do you want with me?" Severian said nothing as he pried on a rusted metal bar. "Hey, I'm talking to you," Willow said loudly. No answer. Well, she thought, I'll just let him know that I'm serious.  
  
Willow kicked Severian in the leg.  
  
"Ow," he said. He didn't look back.  
  
She kicked him again, harder.  
  
"Hey!" Willow shouted. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." Her voice echoed down the tunnel.  
  
Severian froze in place and turned his head slowly to stare back at her. Seeing his expression, Willow gulped and stepped back. "Well?" Severian said to her. Getting no answer he scowled and turned back to the gate. "Now that your little outburst has given our pursuers a great idea of exactly where we are, I might a well do this the fast way."  
  
"Well, I-" Willow said, but she was cut off by the sound of Severian beating the gate mercilessly. It bent slowly under the blows then with a metallic 'clang' part of it broke free and fell to the floor. Wow, Willow thought, I don't think Angel or Buffy could have done that.  
  
Severian took her hand and pulled her through the hole in the gate. Willow's dress caught on a jagged metal bar near the floor and tore at the hem. On the other side he let go of her and said, "Please walk in front of me."  
  
"Why?" she asked. Severian grabbed her by the waist and swung her around in front and set her down. Willow jumped away as he unslung the rifle from his shoulders. Spinning around to face the way they had come, he stuck the barrel through a hole in the bars and fired a long burst down the tunnel. Willow put her hands over her ears and cringed at the noise. The echoes rolled through the darkness.  
  
"So I can do that," Severian said. Willow leaned to the side and looked past him down the tunnel. The sound of several voices screaming in rage and pain drifted to her ears. "I think we'd better go before one of them decides that getting you back alive isn't worth the trouble and starts shooting," Severian continued. He nodded toward the room ahead.  
  
Willow turned away and started walking. "You never answered why," she said without turning around. "Why did you get me away from them?" And why did you bandage my hand, she added mentally.  
  
She got no answer. Passing through the end of the tunnel she came out onto the balcony. It was really no more than a narrow ledge. The water draining from the tunnel spilled over the edge and fell nearly ten feet to a pool below. The room was round and the ceiling at least ten feet above. Light gleamed faintly from a series of short drainage pipes that were spaced near the ceiling. Across the room was another large tunnel and two more at ninety-degree angles, each with their own ledge.  
  
Willow stepped forward to the edge and grabbed hold of the rusted metal rail along one side. Peering over, she could see metal bars sunk into the concrete, forming a ladder that descended into the water below. The other ledges had them as well. A large hole was apparently in the center of the floor since the water was spiraling into the middle and draining away. "What now?" Willow asked.  
  
Severian pushed past her and looked down at the water, then up at the three tunnels across the room. He pursed his lips as turned to Willow, giving her a long thoughtful look. She stared back at him. In the dim light he watched as the nervous fear on her face faded slowly and was replaced with something else. Defiance. A hearty laugh burst from Severian's lips.  
  
Willow blinked at him. "Great," she said, "I'm being held prisoner by a laughing vampire on a ledge above a whirlpool while of bunch of other vampires are coming to kill us. And I thought Sundays were boring." She put her hands on hips. "Well Mr. I-Took-You-Away-From-Them, what now?" She pointed a finger at him. "Just what the hell do you mean by 'took', anyway? And stop laughing at me!"  
  
With difficulty, Severian quieted. "Well," he said, "I guess I'd have to say that old habits die hard." She looked at him blankly. "I, uh, 'saved' you from them," he explained. "I'm a little out of practice with words like that."  
  
"Oh," she said. Then what he said sunk in. "Oh."  
  
"Why? Let's just say I don't much care for demons and vampires anymore. Really burned out on it, in fact. And you being a cute damsel in distress doesn't hurt either."  
  
Willow eyed him warily and he laughed again. A noise from the tunnel caught his attention Severian held his hand up to her. "Hang on a second." He stepped back into the tunnel and fired a burst into the darkness. "Don't want them moving too fast," he said as he turned around. "Now, let's get over to one of those other tunnels and get the out of here." He reached for her hand, but she stepped back.  
  
"We can't just leave," Willow said.  
  
"Why the hell not?" Severian said, frustration in his voice.  
  
"We can't let Steph... I mean Keltin, kill those people."  
  
"It's Kveltain, and what people?"  
  
"The sacrifices," Willow said. "I read on that gold plate that he needs to kill eight humans and Buffy, the Slayer, to do...whatever it is that he's doing." She looked expectantly at him.  
  
Severian narrowed his eyes and looked closer at her. "Humans? That can't be. He's got eight vampires for sacrifices. The Slayer, yes, he wants her to reach him alive, but no humans. You must have read it wrong."  
  
"I read it right," Willow insisted. "It said humans. Kveltain must be doing it wrong." Her eyes focused on nothing as she thought for a moment. "But that's crazy. Why would he do the spell wrong?"  
  
Severian straightened and looked oddly at her. Why indeed, he thought. Maybe I should get back there and find out.  
  
A burst of gunfire erupted from the tunnel, aimed at Severian. One round hit him in the chest and he staggered at the impact. Willow shrieked and fell to the floor. "Get over the side!" Severian yelled. He stepped in front of her and fired down the tunnel, emptying the clip in a long ragged burst.  
  
Willow crawled to the edge and slipped over, grabbing the damp metal bars. She went down a few rungs and stopped. It's too slippery, she realized. Her shoes kept sliding from the bars and she was all but hanging by her hands. The water was only a few feet below, but she didn't know how deep it was. And she couldn't see the whirlpool behind her, though she could hear it. Her eyes grew wide as her fingers started to slip. "Um, help," she gasped.  
  
On the ledge, Severian rushed to the wall and stood out of sight from the tunnel. Leaning against the damp concrete, Severian felt his pockets for another clip. Not finding one, he set the gun down while cursing silently. Voices echoed from the tunnel. His face twitched as heard Claudia shouting orders. Damn bitch, he thought, I'm going to-  
  
Willow's cry for help jerked him from the wall. He dove for the edge and lay flat on the floor. As he reached down he could see her slipping. "Give me your hand," he said.  
  
Willow was clinging to a single bar with both hands, her eyes wide. "I can't let go," she whispered. Severian leaned farther forward so that he could lean closer. Stretching out, he could almost reach her.   
  
A burst of gunfire tore across Severian's back and he screamed in pain. Another burst knocked him over the side. His hand caught the top rung and he nearly knocked Willow from the ladder. Hanging awkwardly by one arm, Severian was trying to bring his other arm up when a vampire appeared above him. With a shout Severian pulled up and grabbed him by the leg. Jerking hard, he threw him off the ledge and into the water below. He was sucked quickly down into the water.  
  
Grinding his teeth at the pain in his back, Severian seized Willow by the waist and pulled her from the ladder. She shrieked and clung to his neck, burying her head in his chest. "Hang on," he shouted. Grabbing the ladder with both hands, Severian put his feet on a rung below and coiled up. He sprung from the ladder and through the air, across the water to the neighboring ledge.   
  
Slamming into the wall Willow's hands nearly slipped and she cried out. Severian reached frantically for the lip of the ledge but missed. As they plummeted toward the water he slapped his hand to the side and snagged a metal rung. They jerked to a stop and he grabbed Willow with his other arm to keep her from falling. Pulling them over so that he was fully on the ladder he lowered his head to hers and whispered, "Okay, get up there." She raised her head and looked at him, but didn't let go of his neck. "Go on," he prodded, "I won't let you fall."  
  
Twisting around, Willow grabbed the ladder and climbed up to the ledge above. As she pulled herself over the top, the sound of a single person clapping slowly came from behind them. Severian and Willow turned their heads to face the ledge they had just left.  
  
Claudia was standing in front of five vampires holding assault rifles. She was clapping her hands together slowly and her horrid fangs gleamed as she smiled. "Well done, Severian, well done." She stopped clapping and folded her arms in front of her. "But I'm afraid that this is where you get off." She nodded and the five vampires began firing.  
  
A storm of bullets ripped into Severian's back. He cried out but his voice was lost in the long roar of noise from the guns. Willow put her hands over her ears and curled up in a ball on the floor. Bits of concrete shattering from the impacts of the bullets showered the water below. For a moment Severian's riddled body hung from the bar, blood pouring from dozens of wounds.  
  
Then, with the guns still thundering, he fell into the water and sank from sight.  
  
"Well that was easy," Claudia said, surprise on her face. Shrugging, she turned to the vampires behind her. "You five get in that water and stake his damn carcass." As they scrambled to comply Claudia took a few steps back, then ran to the edge and jumped across. Landing solidly on the ledge next to Willow, she smiled at the red head. "Hello again."  
  
Willow scrambled to her feet and tried to run for the drainage tunnel, but Claudia was too fast. She snapped her arm out and caught Willow by her long hair. Willow's feet flew out from under her and she screamed in pain as she was lifted into the air. Claudia raised her hand above her head so that Willow face hung painfully in front of her. As tears ran down Willow's cheeks Claudia leaned in close.  
  
"Now, where were we?"  
  
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	19. Part Eighteen

Part Eighteen  
  
  
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Buffy ducked and twisted to the side. Kicking her leg out, she caught one of the charging vampires in the stomach and knocked him from his feet. He grunted and fell to the floor. Buffy dropped to one knee, slammed her stake into his chest then yanked it free. He burst to ash and Buffy came up quickly to face the other two, but they breezed past, both heading for Giles. Stretching her arm out, Buffy tried to grab one but missed.  
  
Giles gave up his attempt to reload the gun and instead slammed it into the head of the first vampire to reach him. Off balance, she tripped over her own feet and fell to the tunnel floor. The second vampire tackled Giles and slammed him to his back. His fangs reached for the Watcher's neck. Buffy jumped over the female vampire at her feet, grabbed Giles' assailant by the arm and jerked him up.  
  
Further down the electrical tunnel Angel and Xander battled a fourth vampire. Angel and his opponent were locked together, bouncing back and forth against the tunnel walls as if they were in a pinball machine. Xander stood a few feet away, holding the crossbow awkwardly in one hand and a stake in the other, watching for an opening. Buffy gave them a quick glance, then turned her attention the vampire she held. He struggled and Buffy dropped her stake. She grabbed him by both arms and shouted, "Giles, stake him!"  
  
"NO!" the female vampire screamed. She kicked frantically at Buffy's left leg, hitting it just below the knee. Buffy cried out, lost her balance and fell to the floor. The vampire in her arms twisted out of Buffy's grasp as she fell but Giles kicked his feet out from under him and he landed beside her on the floor.  
  
"Ow," Buffy breathed. She saw the stake lying nearby and stretched out to seize it. Holding the take so tightly that her knuckles were white, Buffy twisted herself around and lunged for the male vampire on the floor behind her.  
  
The female vampire screamed "Phillipe!" and dove at the Buffy, knocking the stake from her hand. Buffy rolled away and swept her hands about in search of the stake, which rolled down the hall into shadows. In the dim light it was nearly impossible to see the dark wood and Buffy crawled after it, sweeping her hands about. Buff could see Giles a few feet away again trying to reload the rifle. Just as he about to finish Buffy heard a metallic click behind her.  
  
"Dominique, no!" Phillipe shouted. Buffy snapped her head around just in time to see Phillipe knock a gun from the female's hand. It fired when he struck and the bullet passed inches from Buffy's face, ricocheting from the wall beyond and down the tunnel. Buffy flinched and pressed up against the wall as the gun clattered to the ground. Giles jumped at the sound of the shot and dropped the clip.  
  
Angel's head whipped over to search for Buffy the instant the gun went off, rage in his eyes. His fangs gleamed and he snarled at the vampire in his grip. Arms bulging with the strain, he slammed the vampire against the wall, the concrete cracking under the blow. His opponent moaned and went limp. Flinging him aside, Angel raced down the tunnel, shouting Buffy's name as he went.  
  
Xander was bowled over by Angel's discarded opponent, the bow and stake knocked from his hands. Falling in a tangled heap with him, Xander yelled and pushed the groaning vampire off his chest. He rolled over and crawled on his hands and knees after the stake. It skittered away from his fingers and rolled further down the tunnel.  
  
Dominique and Phillipe jumped to their feet and ran down the tunnel, vanishing from sight. Giles retrieved the clip but it was knocked from his hand as Angel brushed him on his way to Buffy. Kneeling beside her he ran his hands over her back and arms, "Are you hit?"  
  
"No," Buffy said. She looked past Angel toward Xander and watched as he tracked down the loose stake. The vampire on the floor barely moved as Xander scurried over and slammed it into his chest. Getting to her feet, Buffy took a few steps down the tunnel in the direction the vampires had fled. "Did you see that? What is up with them? Not just the gun, but they way they went right past me at Giles." Buffy slapped her hands on her thighs in frustration. "Aargh. I hate it when they act weird."  
  
Giles reached down and picked up the pistol on the floor. He pushed his glasses up his nose and examined it in the dim light. "I think it's fairly obvious," he said, "that they want you alive, Buffy." He put the weapon in his jacket pocket and finally reloaded the rifle. "But they want you, not the rest of us."  
  
Angel nodded. "They're trying to separate us from you. Get you alone by killing us off."  
  
"Hurry Xander," Giles said. Xander looked up, sputtering. Giles gave Angel a questioning gaze. "We can't just walk through their ambushes all to the way to the Hellmouth. Is there no other way to get there?"  
  
"I think I know a way. It's dangerous, though." Angel's eyes flew to Buffy and she prompted him to go on. "We can only go one at a time and that means that they could kill us one at a time," he said uneasily. "If it works, though, we'll be very close to the Hellmouth." Angel looked decidedly unhappy when he finished.  
  
Xander started to speak but Giles went first. "It seems that we have a choice." He gestured down the tunnel they had been following. "Twice we've been ambushed-"  
  
"I think by the same vampires," Buffy interrupted. She gave Giles a questioning look. "The first time Angel killed one and we chased the other five off. This time there were four." Buffy stared down the tunnel, then turned to face them. "Now that just leaves two."  
  
"I think you may be right," Giles admitted. "They did look familiar."  
  
Angel ran his fingers through his hair and looked down the tunnel. "There are more, I didn't recognize any of these from the park last night." He looked back at Buffy. "I'm sure of it. There are always more."  
  
"Going around, however many there are in front of us here, would probably be best," Giles said. "Now-"  
  
"How come this other route never came up before?" Xander said. He stood and shoved the stake into his belt. "You never tell the whole story, Angel. Why is that?"  
  
Angel's face darkened and he took a step towards Xander. Buffy put her arm out and held him back. "Xander, stop it," Buffy said angrily. "We'll take Angel's route." To Angel she added, "Now take us there."  
  
Angel locked eyes with Xander briefly before heading back up the tunnel in the direction they had come from. A minute later he took a side passage they'd ignored the first time they'd passed and led them to a door. He paused to make sure that everyone was with him before cautiously opening it. After carefully checking to be sure that nothing awaited them on the other side, he led the group through and into another tunnel. Dim lights, spaced far apart, gave a weak glow and shadows loomed in all directions.   
  
After a few dozen yards Angel paused and spoke softly, "We must stay quiet. If they hear us coming..." He tilted his head slightly and grimaced. He waited until he saw understanding on everybody's face then reached for what looked like a ventilation grate high on the wall, hidden in the shadows by a pair of pipes. Though he was careful in prying it free, the grate groaned as he broke the rust accumulated on the edges and took it down. "I think," he waved his hand at the passage, "that this will come out just a few dozen yards from the entrance to the Hellmouth."  
  
"You think?" Xander said. He was about to say more but the words died in his throat when he caught the look on Buffy's face.  
  
"Xander enough," Giles said. He watched as Xander stomped past him to stand further away from Angel and Buffy. The boy was upset, Giles knew, and angry that Willow had been left behind. I am as well, Giles admitted, but it seemed to him that they couldn't have done anything for her even if Angel had remembered. Still, Xander needed to get this anger under control before it caused real problems.  
  
Buffy held her hand up to Xander and Giles, "Both of you be quiet." She turned and considered the passage for a moment, then reached up for it. Angel grabbed her arm, but she brushed him aside. "I'm going first." Angel looked at Giles for support. "No," Buffy snapped, "I'm going and that's it. Now help me up."  
  
Angel opened his mouth to speak but Buffy's icy stare closed it. Resignation on his face, he cupped his hands for Buffy to step into. She did so and he lifted her towards the passage. Suddenly she paused and looked down at her dress. The expression on her face softened and a smile touched her lips. She said, "This so is not what I should be wearing. No peeking." She waited until all three men averted their eyes before going up and disappearing into the narrow passage. Angel all but leapt to follow her and quickly vanished as well.  
  
Inside the tunnel Buffy crawled forward a few feet on her hands and knees and then stopped. Virtually no light came in the opening and there was little room to turn around. Angel bumped her as he squirmed in behind. She whispered, "Angel, I can't see a thing."  
  
"Just go straight ahead," he said softly. "Ignore any side passages. There will be another grate at the other end. There should be light there as well." Buffy nodded in the darkness then began crawling forward.  
  
In the hallway Xander started for the passage but Giles held him back. "Listen to me Xander," he said quietly. "This anger of yours is doing us, and Willow, no good. It clouds your judgement and unless you get it under control it will get you into trouble." Xander glared at him and started to speak but Giles went on. "Just listen for once. Have you ever done that in your life?" Xander looked away, his jaw clenched, but he didn't speak.  
  
Giles paused for a moment, breathing deeply. Good, the boy appeared to be listening. He put his hand on Xander's shoulder. "Whatever you are feeling towards Angel, you do realize that he didn't leave Willow on purpose, don't you?"  
  
"Yes," Xander whispered. "But he even didn't think enough of her to remember that she was there." He looked back at Giles, his eyes filled with tears. "That's why I'm angry."  
  
"It happened," Giles said. "Now we deal with it. Think how Buffy must feel. She was saved while one of her friends was left behind. I think that-"  
  
"I get it Giles," Xander said. "I'll shut up." He looked Giles in the eyes. "Now get up there G-man."  
  
Pushing his glasses up on his nose, Giles turned to the passage. "Now, could you perhaps help me up?"  
  
Xander winced as he helped lift Giles into the dark opening and he suddenly wondered how he was going to get up himself. "Maybe I should have gone first," he muttered. Giles' feet disappeared and Xander placed the crossbow up in the passage. Grabbing the lower edge with both hands and tried to pull himself up. He gasped and fell back, his ribs burning with pain. Great kick Buffy, he thought. He held his side carefully. Still, it beats being dead.  
  
Gritting his teeth Xander grabbed the ledge again and prepared for another try when suddenly a faint noise tickled at the edge of his hearing. He cocked his head to the side and listened carefully. He heard it again. Grabbing the crossbow from the passage he walked slowly down the tunnel. That sounds like shooting, he thought. But who could be down there? "Willow maybe," he whispered, his eyes wide. Xander started to jog, but another burst of what was clearly gunfire beckoned and he started to run.  
  
An open door along one wall came into sight and Xander slowed as he drew close. Maybe I should go back for the others, he thought. A scream came faintly from the space beyond and any thoughts of going back for Buffy and the rest vanished from Xander's mind. He rushed recklessly through the opening, holding the crossbow tightly. His feet landed in flowing water and he found himself in a large, but dark, sewer tunnel. Left, he thought. It came from the left. As he ran he thought he could see a faint light far ahead.  
  
Xander was passing through an intersection when somebody stepped out directly in front of him. They had their back to him and spoke towards the tunnel from which they had emerged. "I think it's coming from down that way," the man was saying as he pointed towards the dim light. He heard Xander splashing through the water and spun around. "Who's there?" was all he time to say as Xander slammed into him at full speed. They both tumbled to the floor, the crossbow flying from Xander's grasp.  
  
"Dalton, you stupid wanker. What are you doing?" asked a voice from the side tunnel. Xander's eyes grew wide. He looked down at the face of the man beneath him. In the dim light he could make out fangs... A vampire. Xander jumped up and dove in the direction the crossbow had fallen. He crawled through the dark, evil smelling water and was about to grab it when the voice spoke again. "Stop mucking about. Answer me." Xander's heart froze as he realized the voice had an accent like Giles. He'd heard it last night. Spike.  
  
Dalton turned over and flailed about in the water. "My glasses. I can't see!"  
  
Xander looked back in time to see Spike stroll from the tunnel and into the intersection. He next to Dalton and said, "You stupid..." He looked over at Xander. "What do we have here, then? Dalton, did you order ahead?" His fangs gleamed in the dark as he smiled.  
  
A woman in a long white dress walked hesitantly from the tunnel and lay her head on Spike shoulder. She smiled at Xander. "Who is this, Spike? Has he come to sing for me?"  
  
"No luv," Spike said. "He's come for brunch."  
  
Xander pulled his eyes away and grabbed the errant crossbow. In frantic haste he spun around pointed it vaguely towards Spike and pulled the trigger. Spike instinctively flinched to the side and the bolt zipped past him an inch away. It thudded solidly into Drusilla's chest behind him. She screamed and fell to the floor. "Dru!" Spike's face was twisted with fear and he crouched down over her.  
  
Drusilla lay whimpering, her dress floating up to the surface of the filthy water flowing around her. The bolt protruded from a wet red circle, just to the side of her heart. "Baby, baby, baby," Spike murmured, stroking her cheek.  
  
A few feet away Dalton's fingers brushed his glasses. He seized them and quickly pulled them from the water and put them on. Looking at Spike and Drusilla, the hint of a smile quivered at his lips, then fled. He turned to face Xander, who sat motionless in the water across the tunnel.  
  
Xander burst to his feet in a flash and ran down the tunnel. Dalton stood and looked back at Spike. "Get him!" Spike roared. Dalton jumped away, then turned and sped after Xander.  
  
"Spike it hurts," Drusilla whimpered.  
  
"I know luv." Spike put his hand on the shaft of the bolt and closed his eyes. "Let me get that for you."  
  
Fear propelled Xander down the tunnel. He tore through the flowing water, the splashes from his feet hitting him in the face. His ribs ached, but the instinct for self-preservation suppressed any desire to slow. Glancing back over his shoulder, he could see Dalton behind him, slowly gaining ground. He turned back to the front just in time slam face first into a metal grate that blocked the tunnel.  
  
Xander screamed in pain as his head hit a bar and he stumbled back. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead and he wiped it away from his eyes. Through a wave of dizziness he grabbed the grate and tried to shake it. It refused to budge. Dalton's splashing feet grew closer and Xander frantically looked around. His eyes locked on the right side of the grate, where a door in the bars was partially open.  
  
Xander rushed to it and pushed, but the hinges were rusted shut and it didn't move. He shoved his body through the gap and cried out in pain as his injured ribcage was punished by the tight fit. Out of the corner of his eye Xander saw Dalton only yards away. He ground his teeth and forced himself through just as Dalton slammed into the door, his arm reaching through after him.  
  
Dalton hissed and his fangs snapped at him. Grabbing the door, he shoved at it. It groaned and Xander watched as flakes of rust broke free and fell into the water. The door moved an inch. Dalton smiled at him and shoved again.  
  
Xander backed away a few steps, then looked down at the crossbow in his hand. Forgotten while he ran, there were two more bolts attached to the underside. He grabbed a bolt and tried to quickly load it. Dalton's eyes grew large and he redoubled his efforts on the door. Seeing Xander making progress on the crossbow he gave up a few seconds later and tried to squeeze through the opening.  
  
Dalton was almost halfway through when Xander succeeded in getting the bowstring back. As he placed the bolt on the firing groove Dalton pulled himself back out of the opening and fled down the tunnel, back the way he had come. Xander stuck the weapon up to a hole in the bars and fired at him. The shot missed and Dalton disappeared into the darkness.  
  
Reloading with the last bolt, Xander patted the stake in his belt and turned in the opposite direction, heading toward the light and what was apparently the end of the tunnel. As he drew closer there was an eruption of gunfire that went on and on. Xander froze. What is going on down there, he wondered?  
  
When the shooting finally stopped he crept forward. As the distance to the end of the tunnel lessened Xander's eyes grew accustomed to the comparatively bright light and he could make out a pair of figures ahead. Before he could see well enough to make the figures out one of them screamed.   
  
Xander knew that voice. He had heard it his entire life.  
  
Willow.  
  
* * *  
  
The coffin lid opened and Kveltain smiled down at the occupant. A gaunt, skeletal figure, she began flailing back and forth against the sides. The metal chains wrapped tightly around her clinked and clattered and she moaned horribly. "There, there, Celeste," Kveltain said soothingly, "it will all be over soon." A raspy groan was his reply.  
  
A vampire in jeans and a t-shirt nervously tried to speak. "Should we..." He gestured to the coffin. Kveltain's smile vanished and he locked his eyes on him.  
  
"You've already done the other seven. What makes you think this one is any different than the rest?" His voice was calm and his tone level, but the pair of vampires before him stood in stark terror. His icy cold expression took them in, and the tension built unbearably.  
  
Kveltain laughed. "It won't matter in a little while," he cackled. He turned and walked toward the altar in the center of the room.   
  
The vampires by the coffin both exhaled and looked at one another. One of them hit the other in the arm. "What the hell did you ask that for?"  
  
"I didn't think," he replied. He tore his eyes from the retreating Kveltain and looked down at the coffin. "Let's get her on that pole and get out of here." They both reached in and lifted the struggling vampire from the coffin. Only one of the eight metal poles arranged around the Hellmouth was unoccupied and they carried her over. They set her feet on the ground and one held her while the other attached the manacles dangling from the pole. Once the manacles were firmly attached, the two pulled on the chain and lifted her into the air. They placed loops of chain around a peg on the back of the pole and stepped back.  
  
"Get out," Kveltain said without turning around. The two vampires fled the room.  
  
As their footsteps died away, Kveltain spun in a slow circle, his eyes taking all the details of the cavern in. The dirt, rocks, broken church pews, scattered skeletons, the altar, the eight struggling vampires chained to the poles. All were illuminated by harsh portable lights and the thrumming of the portable generator that fed them sent ripples in the blood red pool by the altar.  
  
The pool caught Kveltain's gaze and he drifted over to it. Standing at the edge, he stared into the deep red liquid. "The center..." he murmured. "All converges here." His face hardened and he clenched his fists. "All ends here as well." He spun and strode purposefully over to the altar.  
  
The iron knife, nine golden plates and a notebook were on the top, but Kveltain knelt down and rifled through a leather case on the floor. He pulled out a four-foot tube and stood once more. He pulled the tube open tipped it over, spilling a three-foot wooden rod from within. Tossing the tube aside, he held the rod up into the light and examined one end.  
  
Two inches of black obsidian gleamed as he twisted the rod back and forth. The spear point was well formed and the edges were razor sharp. Kveltain ran a callused finger along the edge and a line of blood welled up as he pulled it away. "My blood dies with me," he said softly.  
  
Kveltain set the little spear on the altar then placed his hands on the surface. He read quickly down the lines of text on the open page of the notebook and looked up the cavern ceiling. Where is that Slayer, he wondered. I want this over with.  
  
Snorting, he dropped his head and stepped away from the altar. I've waited all this time, you'd think I'd learn to be patient. "Not too much longer," he said to his eight unwilling companions. "Then we'll all be free."  
  
* * *  
  
Claudia held Willow by her hair with one hand. Willow's hands were locked onto Claudia's, trying to pry herself free. Claudia pulled her closer and grabbed the back of her neck with her other hand. Willow screamed and kicked at her, her feet flailing desperately. Ignoring the blows Claudia lowered her head to bite her neck. As her fangs pricked Willow's skin a crossbow bolt lanced into Claudia's chest.  
  
Claudia grunted, letting go of Willow and stumbling back. Willow fell to he floor, shaking in fear and crying. She put her quivering hand over two bright red dots of blood on the side of her neck. She looked up through tears of pain and watched Xander come running from the tunnel, holding a stake in his hand and shouting as he came. "Xander!" Willow wailed. She stretched her hands out to him as if she were a child and her fingers brushed his shirtsleeve as he charged past.  
  
Claudia snarled and stepped forward to meet him. She knocked the stake from Xander's hand with contemptuous ease and hit him in the stomach. Xander fell to his knees like a rag doll. His eyes flitted to Willow and he coughed up blood as he tried to speak. "Willow run," was all he could manage.  
  
Before Willow could speak or even move Claudia shouted, "You bastard! How dare you!" She kicked Xander in the chest and he flew through the air, slamming into the wall. His body dropped to the ground and his head thunked against the concrete. He lay very still.  
  
"No..." Willow gasped.  
  
"Don't die yet," Claudia hissed. She jerked the bolt from her chest and stalked over. "We're just getting started." She bent over and grabbed Xander by the throat. Yanking him to his feet, blood foamed from his mouth as her fingers tightened.  
  
A sickening thud echoed through the room and Claudia arched her back, her face twisted in agony. She dropped Xander and spun drunkenly around. A wooden stake protruded from her back, directly behind her heart. Xander's stake. "No," Claudia moaned, "this isn't happening."  
  
Willow stood before her, tears in her eyes. "You leave him alone!" she screamed, her voice shaking with rage.  
  
"You little bitch," Claudia sputtered and Willow backed away as she reached for her. Her knees gave away and Claudia fell to the floor. Her body burst into ash that flowed in streamers into the air. It swirled about for a few seconds and then was suddenly gone. Only a bleached white skeleton remained.  
  
A look of fierce satisfaction was on her face as Willow stood over Claudia's bones. Then she looked up and that satisfaction was replaced with something else. Fear.  
  
"Xander," she whispered as she ran to his side.  
  
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	20. Part Nineteen

Part Nineteen  
  
  
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Buffy peered carefully through the grill. The tunnel beyond was dimly lit, but she could see well enough to recognize that the Hellmouth was close by. She shuddered at the memory. Getting killed tended to make an impression. A negative impression. Angel touched her arm and she started. "I'm fine," she said.  
  
"Are you sure?" he replied. His expression said that he hadn't expected her response.  
  
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Help me get this thing off, will you?" She pushed on the grill.  
  
Angel shook his head at her. "It'll make noise and take too long. Just kick it off and get out fast."  
  
"Won't it make noise that way?"  
  
"Yes, but it will no matter what. So do it quickly."  
  
Buffy considered the grill. Whatever held it in place was not visible from her side and rust lined the edges. She twisted her body around in the narrow passage and put her feet against the metal slats. With a wry smile and a shrug, she drew her feet back and kicked. The grill jerked free, the rust bursting into a cloud of powder that tickled her nose. She coughed as the grill clattered loudly to the floor out in the middle of the tunnel.  
  
Scooting forward, Buffy dropped out of the passage and landed on her feet. Angel crawled quickly and came halfway out headfirst. Grabbing a pipe near the ceiling he pulled his feet out behind him and dropped to the floor as well.  
  
Buffy took a few steps away from Angel down the tunnel towards the Hellmouth, peering into the darkness. Unbidden, the memory of her last walk down this path forced its way to the forefront of her thoughts. That odd child, the Anointed One Giles called him, had led her through the twisting tunnels to the Master. To her death.  
  
Well, her temporary death, anyway. Buffy hugged her arms around herself and closed her eyes. That's not going to happen this time. A determined look came over her face and she glared into the darkness ahead. Still, a feeling of déjà vu disturbed her.  
  
Then it hit her. The dress. Buffy looked down at the battered ruin that was the black cocktail dress she'd worn to her mother's show. "Oh my God," she whispered. When she'd faced the Master before she'd also been dressed to the hilt. That time it had been a long, white prom dress.  
  
Giles' clumsy exit from the passage snapped Buffy out of it. She turned and tried to stifle a giggle at the sight of him hanging awkwardly from the ventilation shaft.  
  
"You could lend me a hand," an exasperated Giles snapped. "Instead of just laughing."  
  
"Giles, you really should take a look at yourself," Buffy snickered. "You look ridiculous."  
  
Angel stepped over and seized Giles under the arms, pulling him free. "Thank you," Giles said, casting an irritated look at Buffy. He reached back into the passage and pulled the assault rifle clear.  
  
"There weren't any guards here," Angel observed. "We were fortunate. But down there," he pointed in the direction of the Hellmouth, "there will be."  
  
"Do you think they heard us?" Buffy asked. "That grate wasn't exactly quiet." Angel nodded and Buffy took a few steps down the tunnel. "Do you hear that?"  
  
Angel and Giles both stood silently, listening. Giles shook his head no, but Angel spoke up. "It sounds like an engine. A small one."  
  
"But why..." Giles wondered aloud. "I can't imagine what it would be doing down here." He looked at Angel. "What could they be doing with it?" Angel held his hands out and shrugged.  
  
"I don't care," Buffy said without turning around. "Let's get this over with. Tell Xander to hurry up."  
  
Giles stepped over to the ventilation shaft and stood on his tiptoes, peering in. "Xander?"  
  
Footsteps echoed softly in the darkness and Buffy pulled out her stake. "I think they're coming." She looked back. "Where's Xander?"  
  
Confusion was on Giles face as he turned to her, holding the gun tightly. "I don't understand. I thought he was right behind me."  
  
"I hear more coming," Angel said, pointing in the other direction.  
  
"Both sides?" Buffy said. She grimaced and clenched the stake in her hand tightly. This was getting better and better. Now Xander and Willow were both missing and they were surrounded. Damn Xander! Where was he? Buffy realized that Angel was speaking to her. "What did you say?"  
  
"I said, 'What do you want to do?'"  
  
Buffy pressed her lips together as the first vampire charged out of the darkness.  
  
"Fight."  
  
* * *  
  
Spike was sitting in the water holding Drusilla in his lap when Dalton returned. She had her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly. Dalton stopped a few feet away and waited until Spike looked at him.  
  
"He's dead," Dalton said carefully.  
  
"First damn thing to go right all weekend," Spike said harshly. "Forget the Hellmouth. We're leaving. Now."  
  
Dalton smiled. He pointed down one of the four tunnels that intersected here. "We should go-"  
  
"No!" Drusilla cried. She flailed about in Spike's arms and beat her hands on his chest. "You promised, Spike. You promised that you wouldn't let him." She grabbed Spike by the hair and pulled his face down close to her own. "He's going to shut it and we'll be all gone."  
  
Spike jerked his head back. "That hurt, pet." She continued to squirm so Spike let her go. She jumped to her feet and Spike rose to stand beside her, rubbing the side of his head where Drusilla had yanked his hair. Drusilla stared at Spike, a desperate pleading in her eyes. Spike looked away. "Okay, okay. Anything for you, luv." He grabbed Dalton by the arm and pulled him over next to Drusilla. Watch her," he said, sticking a finger in his face. "Stay here until I get back."  
  
Drusilla's head whipped around and her eyes smoldered at Dalton. "I have to be there," she said darkly. Turning back to Spike she flashed her teeth. "I have to," she hissed.  
  
"No," Spike said. "Dalton, keep her here or I'll have your innards for lunch." He put Drusilla's arm into Dalton's hand. "Now, which way do I take to the Hellmouth?"  
  
A few minutes later Dalton stood holding Drusilla's arm in the darkness. She was silent, swaying back and forth with her eyes closed. Dalton blinked and in an instant her face was an inch from his own. She'd changed and her fangs gleamed beneath the bottomless dark pools that were her eyes. She pulled a stake from Dalton's jacket and smiled at him. "I'm going," she said calmly. "Would you like to come along?"  
  
Dalton let go, then turned and ran away.  
  
* * *  
  
Standing against the pull of the water, the five vampires that had been searching for Severian's bullet ridden body stared up in shock. A moment before, Claudia had been above them on the ledge. Now...  
  
They all looked at one another. "Wha... What do we do now?" one of them whispered.  
  
From the ledge above, Willow's voice floated down to them. "Xander? Xander please wake up!" With water swirling into center drain and the four tunnels, each dumping water into the pool, her voice was almost lost in the noise.  
  
"We should get her," another vampire said. She looked nervously at the others. "Take her to Kveltain..." She spoke to one of her companions, "Darien-"who cut her off.  
  
"Not me, Sylvia. I'm getting out of here." He started walking through the swirling water towards one of the ladders.  
  
"What about Severian?" another asked.  
  
"He probably went down the drain," Darien called out. Then he stumbled, just short of the ladder. "Hey, what's-" There was a splash and he disappeared from sight. The water churned for a moment.  
  
"Darien?" Sylvia stared at the swirling water.  
  
The others all began yelling at once, and then one of them fired. In moments they were all shooting, the water geysering from the storm of bullets that ripped into the surface. In a few seconds they ceased one by one as the guns ran out of ammunition. Above on the ledge, Willow couched on the floor over Xander, covering her ears against the noise.  
  
"That was him!" one vampire shouted. "I'm getting out of here!" He turned to flee.  
  
"Wait," Sylvia shouted. "We can take him if we stick together!"  
  
"Without Claudia he'll kill us all!" another yelled.  
  
A figure burst from the water, just feet away from the fleeing vampire.   
  
Severian. His body was ripped and torn, dozens of bullet wounds stitched along his back and limbs. His face was mask of rage, a horrific visage made Sylvia and the others flinch back in fear. He lashed out with the razor sharp claws that his fingers had become and tore the head from the vampire before him. Before the body even started to fall, Severian snatched the gun by the barrel from his hand and turned toward the others.  
  
The closest of the three shrank back, fumbling with his weapon. He raised it and pulled the trigger, but it was out of ammunition. He screamed and threw the gun at Severian, who knocked it aside and advanced through the water towards him. Severian swung the rifle in his hand like a club, decapitating his victim. Blood sprayed into the air, and he stood in the red mist a moment before turning to Sylvia and her companions.  
  
The two vampires fumbled clips from their pockets and frantically tried to load. The male lost the clip in his haste and it fell into the water. He cried out and reached desperately for it. Feeling along the bottom, his hand brushed it and he seized the metal box and jerked it to the surface. Standing upright once more, he raised his eyes to see Severian standing before him. He screamed as he slammed the clip home, but before he could draw the bolt back Severian's claws tore into him.  
  
Sylvia watched, completely numb, as Severian turned toward her. He dropped the rifle; the stock ruined from its use as a weapon, into the water and strode toward her. Sylvia backed away, her own weapon falling from her hands. "Please," she whined, "Claudia made us..."  
  
"I don't care," Severian rumbled. He raised his bloody hands toward her. "Today everybody dies." Sylvia backed into the concrete wall that made up the ledge and pressed herself against it.   
  
"Please!" she wailed.  
  
On the ledge above Willow huddled against Xander, her eyes closed, as Sylvia's piercing screams echoed horribly through the room. After what seemed an eternity, the screaming ceased. Willow timidly raised her head and looked out past the ledge over the water.  
  
The constant sound of running water filled the air, but she could hear nothing besides her own breathing. She sat perfectly still, one hand resting on Xander's chest; the other clenched into a fist at her side. Willow licked her lips nervously and with difficulty pulled her eyes from the ledge and looked down at Xander. His eyelids fluttered and Willow's heart leapt. "Xander?" she whispered.  
  
A loud slam behind her made her jump. Looking back at the edge, Willow could see a horrid, bloody claw embedded into the concrete. She gasped in fear as the owner pulled himself up into view.  
  
"Hello pretty," Severian hissed. His face was pale and his lips bloody. Two long, horrid fangs gleamed against his skin. Another claw came over the edge and pierced the concrete. He pulled himself up and stood before her. "Been a long time since I've been myself. I'm feeling better, though. I think a celebration is in order." He smiled wickedly. "Care to join me?"  
  
"Willow, what's going on?" Xander croaked. Willow looked down at him and a tear ran down her face.  
  
"Nothing," she whispered. "Just rest, Xander." She pulled his head into her lap, leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips. Shutting her eyes, Willow held Xander tight as Severian reached for them.  
  
* * *  
  
"Watch it Giles," Buffy shouted. She knocked her opponent aside and darted across the hall. Giles was pinned beneath a vampire, desperately holding her away from his neck. Buffy dodged an attempted tackle by another then staked Giles' assailant. He scrambled to his feet as Buffy turned to deal with the others.  
  
"Buffy!" Angel shouted from down the tunnel. "There more gathering behind us." He quickly joined the others and stood at Buffy's side. "We have to move. Now."  
  
Buffy cursed as the vampires in front withdrew, turning tail and running towards the Hellmouth. "They're just leading us down there," she snapped. Again and again the vampires would drive them down the tunnel while making attempts to kill Angel and Giles. Whichever vampires found themselves battling Buffy directly simply defended themselves and tried to keep her from protecting the others.  
  
Breathing heavily, Giles nodded. "They do seem intent on getting us away from you." He picked up the rifle and checked the magazine. Only a few rounds remained. Holding the gun up he said, "This will be useless soon, and they'll probably try to rush us once more."  
  
"We've got to get out of here," Angel said. He stood protectively near Buffy, but she pushed around him and started toward the Hellmouth once more.  
  
"They want me down there?" she said angrily. "Let's just give them what they want." She spun around. "I am sick of this. Let's just go right through them." Buffy gripped the stake in her hand tightly. "I want this over with." She turned and strode away.  
  
Angel immediately followed and Giles stood still for a moment. Over with does sound like an excellent idea, he thought. Checking the gun in his hands once more, Giles hurried after them.  
  
* * *  
  
The pain in his stomach was excruciating. Lying on the dusty ground, the sound of the battle filled his ears. He cried out at his fellow soldiers as they ran past, but not one bothered to give him so much as a glance.   
  
He tried to sit up, but his stomach screamed in agony and he lay his head back. Though he didn't want to, he forced himself to look down his body once more.  
  
"No..." he wheezed. The Hittite spear was still firmly embedded in his gut. He grabbed the shaft and tried to pull it out, knowing that he shouldn't. His arms were weak, though, and it wouldn't budge. "Please," he gasped, "someone help me.  
  
The sounds of the battle grew quieter as his own army streamed by, pursuing their beaten enemy. Turning his head to the side, the young man watched the glowing red sun sink into the western sky. I'm going to die, he thought to himself. Who will take care of my wife? My little girls? The fields are only partly harvested, Akany can't finish by herself.  
  
He tried to call for help once more, but all he managed was a gurgle of blood. A wave of weakness clouded his eyes and everything grew dim. No...  
  
It was dark when he woke. His head lolling to the side, the voices of the wounded and dying filled the night air. I should help them, he thought. When he tried to move, the pain made him remember. The spear. "No." His voice was barely a whisper.  
  
"No what?" The voice was close by.  
  
Mustering his strength, the young man turned his head to the side. A tall figure stood a few feet away. "Please." Forcing himself, he spoke again. "Please help me. The fields..."  
  
"What about the fields?" The figure stepped closer and crouched down.  
  
"I... I need to go back. Akany. She won't be able to..."  
  
"Ah. I see. You need to go back." The man's face came closer and loomed over him. "What if I told you that you could?"  
  
"You're not real," the young man said.  
  
A sharp laugh burst into the night. "Oh, I'm real. Terribly real, in fact."  
  
Through the haze of pain, he could feel the wrongness of it all. There was an unspoken evil in this dark figure's voice. But the desperate need to live pushed aside the doubts. "I... Whatever you want," he said. "Just let me go back first."  
  
"You can go home if you like. But I doubt that this young woman will be very happy to see you." He leaned in close and the young man screamed.  
  
* * *  
  
It's funny, Severian thought. I can remember how that spear felt. The texture of the wood, the smell of the dirt. I can remember my children's names, my wife's, and even the names she gave each of our goats.   
  
But I can't remember my own.  
  
Strange. I've called myself Severian for so long I've forgotten it.  
  
That girl. Willow. What is she doing here, holding that boy? And where did he come from? Severian watched as a pair of bloody hands reached for the girl. She whimpered and held the boy's head against her chest.  
  
Leave her alone! Anger ripped though Severian and he raged at whomever threatened the child. I'm going to kill...  
  
The hands had stopped. They quivered inches from her body.  
  
Those are my hands. I WILL NOT!  
  
It seemed as if he were climbing from a deep well, a narrow circle of light above beckoning him upward. It grew brighter and brighter as he rose, and then suddenly he burst out, in control of his own body again.  
  
"No!" he shouted. Stumbling away, Severian tripped and fell backwards. He landed on the floor, his hands shaking. "I am in control. DO YOU HEAR ME!"  
  
Willow shook at the noise, clinging desperately to the boy in her arms. Severian looked at his hands, his vampire hands, and forced himself to change.  
  
"Child," he called out gently. "Willow." She looked up at him, her eyes red. "I'm not going to hurt you." He could see the confused disbelief on her face so he spoke again. "I promise."  
  
She snuffled quietly and looked down at the boy in her arms. "I don't believe you," she said. "But there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
Severian got to his feet once more and looked down at her. "That's true," he said. Claudia's bones caught his eye. "Is that..."  
  
Willow looked at them. "Yes."  
  
Severian laughed softly. "Did you do it?" She nodded and he laughed again. "Oh my. This town is weird." Willow stared at him in confusion and he said, "Never mind." Looking at Xander Severian said, "I think that boy needs help. I'll take him to the surface for you." Glancing down at Xander then back to Severian, Willow's face was doubtful. "Like you said," he went on, "there's nothing you can do about it."  
  
Willow lay Xander's head gently back down and got out of the way as Severian picked him up. She touched Severian's arm and looked up at him nervously. "Please hurry."  
  
He smiled. "I will. Then I've got an appointment with an old friend."  
  
Willow watched Severian carry Xander down into the tunnel, then hurried to follow.  
  
* * *  
  
Kveltain paced along the edge of the invisible circle that surrounded the Hellmouth, twirling the small spear in his hand. He could feel the magical energy that marked the boundary. It had grown stronger in the last few minutes. I haven't even started the spell, but it grows stronger, he thought. It knows something is coming.   
  
A wild laugh burst from his lips. But it doesn't know what.  
  
Gunfire and screaming sounded loudly from the entrance. "That would be our Slayer," he said aloud. Looking to the vampires hanging from the posts, he smiled sadly. "It would appear that it is time, my friends." He patted the closest on the cheek before striding back to the altar. "Time to get started."  
  
Placing his hand on the notebook, Kveltain ran his eyes down the text. Long since memorized, he didn't really read the words. He paused and tapped his finger on the last line. "Clean your own kill," he said softly. The words of his father. He knocked the notebook away and it fluttered across the room.  
  
Funny, Kveltain thought, he never said them in reference to the hunt. Only when I'd made a mistake. That's what I'm doing now. Cleaning it up.  
  
Gripping the spear tightly, he turned to face the blood red pool. "Let it end," he said. He plunged the spear into the liquid and began to chant. The pool began to boil and power surged through the room. Across the room the generator that powered the lights quivered as the invisible surge of energy washed across it. The vampires hanging from the poles around him moaned and thrashed, struggling frantically against their bonds. The sharp smell of ozone filled the cavern and the air crackled with energy.   
  
Taking the spear from the pool, Kveltain walked slowly to the nearest sacrifice and held it over her heart. "Goodbye, Celeste." He plunged the obsidian point through her heart. She arched her back and screamed. Power pulsed up through the wooden shaft and into Kveltain's arm. He tore it free and she burst into ash. A loud rumble rolled across the room.  
  
Kveltain stood silent for a moment, his eyes closed. Then he walked to next sacrifice. "Goodbye, Grahan."  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy stumbled when a low rumbling washed over them. The flashing of what seemed like lightning flickered ahead. "What's going on?" she shouted over the noise.  
  
"I don't know," Giles said as he rushed to join her, but I think that we should make haste." He cast the rifle away, its ammunition exhausted.  
  
Angel knocked a trailing vampire to the ground and backed away. "I've lost my stake," he yelled. "Buffy, we've got to move, there are more coming."  
  
Buffy glanced back at Angel, then towards the Hellmouth. Just ahead, she thought. Closing her eyes she breathed deeply. Willow is waiting for you. You have to go. She opened her eyes once more and squeezed Angel's hand. "Let's go."  
  
They came down the tunnel and turned into the short, round passage that was the entrance. Ahead, lightning seemed to be flickering. The strobe like effect was painful to the eyes and Buffy could feel the hairs on her arm stand on end. The three stepped from the tunnel and onto the slope that led down to the floor of the cavern.  
  
Giles stopped at the top, staring at the eight poles arranged around the low mound in the center of the room. Chains and manacles hung from the poles. The empty poles. "Sacrifices?" he wondered aloud. A last, fitful flicker of energy arced between the poles, then died away, though the air seemed to shimmer with expectation.  
  
Buffy rushed down the slope and headed directly for the altar, but Angel ran after her and caught her halfway across. "Wait!" he said, "it's probably a trap."  
  
"Yes it is," a voice said. Stepping from the shadows on the far side of the altar, Buffy watched as Stephen slowly climbed the rocky slope, twirling a short spear in his hand.  
  
"Where is Willow?" Buffy demanded. "What have you done with her?" She started for him, but Angel seized her arm and held her back.  
  
"She was here, but she left with a friend of mine earlier. I'm sure they're having a wonderful time, though. He always did have a thing for the pretty ones." Stephen smiled wickedly at her. Looking past her he added, "I wouldn't do that, Watcher." Giles froze, the pistol he'd picked up earlier halfway out of his jacket pocket. "I think you'll be needing that for them." Giles turned to see a pair of vampires charge from the tunnel towards him. He pulled a cross from his pocket and held it up as he backed away.  
  
Buffy pulled away from Angel and ran for Giles. More vampires came from the tunnel and Buffy pulled Giles further into the cavern. "There's too many," Giles said.   
  
Angel stepped past them and grappled with the nearest. "Get me a stake," he shouted. Giles saw the remains of the church pews and ran for them. Buffy launched herself into the fight at Angel's side.  
  
Behind them, Kveltain stood passively, waiting. A wry smile touched his lips as Buffy and Angelus, with occasional shots from the Watcher across the room, fought back to back, slaughtering his minions. Many of them, he noted, had abandoned his orders of keeping the Slayer alive and were doing their utmost to kill her.   
  
"She's good," he said to the empty poles. "Very good." Glancing down at the spear in his hand, his lips curled at the caked blood that covered it as well as his arm. Old blood, it reeked of death. Vampire blood. He dropped it to the floor and put his hands on the altar. Lowering his head, he sighed and listened to the fighting.  
  
In all the confusion, Spike crept unseen through the entrance tunnel. He moved quickly along the cavern wall, staying in the shadows, and took a position between Buffy and Kveltain. He picked up a shattered board as he went, gripping one end tightly.  
  
The last pair of vampires still facing Buffy and Angel broke off and backed away, and Giles rushed over to Angel, handing him a short piece of wood, scavenged from the ruined pews. "Watch my back," Buffy told Angel. Turning to the altar, she called out, "Stephen, or whatever your name is, I have HAD IT with you." She held up the bloody stake in her hand. "Do you see this? Take a good look, because it's the last thing you will ever see."  
  
The vampires behind her made a rush and Angel moved to meet them, snarling as he went. Giles hung back, hoarding the last of the bullets in his pistol.  
  
Buffy walked toward the altar, her fingers white as they clenched the stake. "Kveltain," the figure before her called out. "My name is Kveltain."  
  
Pausing just outside the ring of poles, Buffy shouted back at him. "I DON'T CARE!" She pointed the stake at him. "Willow is the best friend I have, you bastard. How dare you hurt her."  
  
Drusilla stole into the cavern, Dalton's stake in her hand. She hurried down the slope and disappeared along the dark cavern walls.  
  
By the altar, Kveltain opened his arms wide and stepped towards Buffy. "Your best friend? I thought so. She can scream quite loudly, you know."  
  
Oh Willow, I'm so sorry. Buffy brushed a tear away. "I'm going to kill you," she said softly. As she started walking up the slope, a figure burst from the side. So caught up in her anger, she didn't see him until he was upon her. Buffy looked up at the last moment and saw Spike swing a heavy board in a wide arc at her. It slammed across the side of her head and she fell to the floor, stunned.  
  
"Now you stupid little tart, how are you feeling?" He raised the board again and Buffy raised her arm protectively over herself. Spike slammed the board down, shattering it. Something cracked in her forearm. Crying out in pain, she fell to the floor. Spike's face flashed triumph and he kicked the Slayer in the ribs.  
  
"Buffy!" Angel tried to get away from the vampires before him, but one dove and tackled him to the floor. The other darted at Giles and the Watcher fell back, fighting for his life.  
  
Spike snatched up a piece of the broken board and raised it over his head, holding it, jagged end down, like a sword. "You make three, pet."   
  
Kveltain stood watching in horror as Spike beat Buffy to the floor. He rushed down the slope away from the altar, but paused, just inside the ring of poles. He stood, uncertain, just a few feet away from Spike. I can't leave, he thought. I have to stay in here or I risk ruining the spell.  
  
As Spike raised the board to finish Buffy, the weight of Kveltain's long years overcame him. "No," Kveltain whispered, "this isn't happening." He darted through the ring and the power flooding through him faded. A tiny trickle still pulsed within him, though. It will work, he exulted. The connection is still there; I just have to get back in.  
  
Spike plunged the board down at Buffy. The point was inches from her neck when it was slapped from his hands. Before Spike could turn his head a tremendous blow struck him and he flew through the air. He slammed into the cavern wall, ten feet away, and dropped to the floor in a daze.  
  
"Get up, Slayer," Kveltain shouted. He spun away and stepped toward the circle of poles once more.  
  
Drusilla was standing in front of him, her eyes glittering darkly. "It stays shut!" she shouted. Her arm struck out and pain ripped through Kveltain's body. Looking down in disbelief, he pawed weakly at the stake protruding from the left side of his chest.   
  
"No. You can't do this," Kveltain said. He looked up at Drusilla. "It'll never end now."   
  
She backed away from him, the fierce determination draining from her face. She looked about as if just realizing her surroundings for the first time. "Spike!" she wailed.  
  
Kveltain sank to his knees and looked up at the ceiling. His voice sputtered for a moment, but whatever words he tried speak died in his throat. He fell over, landing with a soft thud and lay very still.  
  
Drusilla rushed past the body to Spike. He staggered to his feet, clutching his side. "Spike, I want to go home," Drusilla whined.  
  
"Damn good idea, luv," Spike coughed. He took her hand and led her toward the exit, making a wide move around the others.  
  
The vampires fighting Giles and Angel froze in shock. The stood looking at Kveltain's still form, then without speaking, turned and fled from the room. Angel scrambled to his feet and rushed to Buffy while Giles warily watched Spike and Drusilla stumble from the cavern. They disappeared from sight into the tunnel system.  
  
Angel dove to his knees and took Buffy into his arms. "Buffy, say something."   
  
She turned her head and lay it against his chest. "I'll survive," she said weakly. "I think my arm is broken, though."   
  
Giles leaned down and touched her head lightly. "She's got a bad cut as well," he said to Angel. "And a concussion possibly. We need to get her to a hospital." Angel nodded and lifted her into his arms. Giles rushed up the altar and collected the golden plates into a leather case on the floor. Carefully not touching them, he scraped them from the table with the cross in his hand. "Let's go," he said to Angel when he finished. They both headed for the exit.   
  
"Willow, Xander," Buffy moaned. "I'll come back for them," Angel said. "It's day, I can't go to the hospital anyway." He kissed her forehead. "I'll find them, I promise."  
  
Buffy mumbled something and Angel held her close as he ran through the tunnels.  
  
* * *  
  
Severian hurried away from the mausoleum towards the Hellmouth. He'd carried the boy, Xander she'd called him, nearly into the sunlight before finally setting him down. Turning to speak to girl, to Willow, she'd rushed past him, falling to her knees to hold Xander in her arms.  
  
He'd stood silently over her, listening to her speak softly, crying as she cradled Xander's head in her lap. I should say something, he'd thought, and his hand hovered inches from her hair. But no words had come. So he'd stood, worthless as a statue, saying nothing, doing nothing, until finally tearing himself away and returning to the tunnels.  
  
What could you have said? You're just a copy of a human. Nothing more than a shell. You have no real feelings.  
  
But that seems wrong. When the demon took control once more, I was there, inside. Not a copy. Me. I was the one who became angry, reached out and took control once more. If my soul is gone, how could a simple copy, an animated corpse really, battle a demon for control and win?  
  
The demon inside me has faded, lost its strength, but my soul must remain. It's been with me all along.  
  
Severian stopped in his tracks. Kveltain was wrong. Or he lied. I have my soul. I can do what I want. I know now that I can control the demon. I can have a life, of sorts.  
  
Maybe.  
  
Voices floated down the hall and he ducked into the shadows. Angelus ran by, carrying the Slayer in his arms, her Watcher right behind. They were headed toward the surface, towards the mausoleum. Good, he thought, they'll find Willow and the boy. I wonder what happened down below? He stepped into the hall after they passed and hurried down into the darkness.  
  
Half an hour later he stood over Kveltain's body. "He looks like a child," Severian said aloud, wonder in his voice. Old vampires leave bones, like Claudia. Ancient ones leave their entire bodies. More effects of fading, it seemed.  
  
He stepped away and walked to the altar. He spotted a short, stone tipped spear and he picked it up. Glancing about, the golden plates were nowhere to be seen. "Damn," he muttered. Then he spotted Kveltain's notebook across the room. He strolled over and picked it up.  
  
Severian looked once more at Kveltain, then down at the notebook. Snapping it shut, Severian walked out of the cavern, twirling the spear in one hand.  
  
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	21. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
  
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Severian sat with his back to the ocean, listening to the waves breaking in the darkness. He put his hands out behind him and leaned back. Though the pain from his plethora of injuries was terrible, he smiled at the simple sensation of sand beneath his fingers.  
  
This is insane, he thought. You really should get below ground. He closed his eyes and stretched out his legs. Kicking his shoes away, Severian used his toes to peel his socks off. He wiggled his feet into the sand and sighed at the cool dampness that lay just below the surface. Sunrise is almost here, he told himself. You really should be going. He opened his eyes and looked up.  
  
Far off in front of him to the east, the night sky was fading quickly. The deep red glow of morning slowly advanced from behind the hills beyond Sunnydale. The pre-dawn light hurt his eyes, and Severian looked away. Blinking back tears, his gaze fell upon the notebook lying beside him on the sand.  
  
As written that spell won't work for me, he thought. But with enough study, perhaps I can learn enough to alter it so that it will. Perhaps not. It's a modification itself, changed by Kveltain from its original purpose. He kept saying, 'I did it, I'll fix it.' Was it really true? Severian shrugged in the growing light. Doesn't matter now, I suppose. Either way I still have to put my own modifications on the spell. Given enough time I'll figure it out. He looked back towards the east. The sun was moments away from clearing the hills.  
  
But you won't get that time if you sit here much longer. Severian wrapped his arms around his legs and hugged them close to his chest. "But I have to know," he whispered. Kveltain could do it. He could withstand the light. Can I?  
  
Light burst from behind a ridge and Severian jerked back in pain. It seemed to tear into him, wave after wave of burning fire ripping through his body. He fell back, flinging his hands out in front of his face. He writhed on the beach, pain consuming him, when it came to him.  
  
Haruhar.  
  
Though in agony, he laughed out loud. Now, of all times, Severian remembered.  
  
My name is Haruhar.  
  
The laughter ceased. I should be dead by now, he realized. The pain slowly started fading and he pried his eyes open and looked down at himself. He wasn't burning. The light hurt, terribly so, but he wasn't burning. As he forced himself into a sitting position, a genuine smile of joy blossomed on his face. He reached down and picked the notebook up, set it in his lap, and sat facing the east.  
  
For the first time in thirty-three centuries, Haruhar watched the sun rise.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy pushed the doors open and stepped inside the library. In the halls outside, the students of Sunnydale High School scurried past, another day over with. "Hey, ho Will!" she called out. "Look at the autographs!" Willow turned around in her seat and smiled as Buffy held up her arm. Wrapped in a short, hard cast, she held it over head like a trophy.  
  
"Autographs?" Willow pouted, "all I got was some stitches." She held her hand out, palm up. A large white bandage was wrapped around it. Willow looked at it, sighed, and turned back to the papers on the table.  
  
"What are you doing, girl?" Buffy stomped over to the table and put her hands on hips. "Let's get to the hospital. I called Xander earlier and he sounded very anxious to see you."  
  
"That's because I told him that I'd bring him some of those little powder doughnuts," Willow said. A guilty look washed over her face and she looked around. "Except, um, I kinda ate half of them." With her foot she pushed the opened package under her chair and smiled shyly at Buffy.   
  
"Oh, and the possibility of a few bedside smoochies has nothing to do with it?"  
  
Willow blushed and looked away. "Maybe." She brushed her hair back to hide her smile from Buffy. "Giles asked me to check his translation, I should finish," she said.  
  
"Those gold squares?"  
  
Willow nodded. "It's really weird. The spell is all about ending the world and stuff. Sacrifices, killing you, the Slayer, I mean, and letting the demons out and into everybody."  
  
"So, the usual end of the world thing?" Buffy said, chewing a fingernail. "Been there, done that."  
  
Willow's face lit up and her eyes glittered as she went on. "But the really creepy part, Stephen, whoever he was, did it wrong. Was doing it wrong."  
  
"Huh?" Buffy said, confusion on her face.  
  
"Yeah, he was supposed to have people as sacrifices, not vampires. Giles is really weirded out by it. I think he knows something, but he won't say. There's no telling how much Stephen changed the spell, or what he was really up to."  
  
Giles stepped from his office, wiping his glasses on a small handkerchief. "Willow, I'm afraid I can't find any mention at of all of this Severian character. Claudia either. Are you sure those were their names? Oh, hello Buffy."  
  
"Yeah," Willow said. "I got to know them pretty well." Willow turned and looked out the window. I wonder where Severian is now?  
  
Giles shrugged. "I'll look at some volumes I have at home. Perhaps some mention can be found there." He looked at his watch. "Are we going to the hospital now?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Yep. Don't like hospitals much, but it is more time away from home."  
  
Willow gave Buffy a slight smile. "Grounded pretty hard?"  
  
Buffy nodded slowly. "Oooh, yes. Just a little bit."  
  
"We should be off then," Giles said. He took his coat from the rack in his office and started for the door, Buffy following. "Willow, leave that and come along," he called out over his shoulder.  
  
"Oh wait," Willow cried, pointing at one of the papers in front of her. "I did find something. This part about the caster. I think you mistranslated a word." Buffy was saying something to Giles as they went through the library doors, and neither heard Willow behind them. "It does mean eldest," she went on, "but in this context that word doesn't mean oldest. It means first."  
  
Willow's eyes grew large as what she'd just said sunk in. She sat in the library, in silence, for a long time.  
  
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End file.
